


Tripping on Stars

by GlassAlice



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ADHD!Lance, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Dyslexic!Lance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Growing Up, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith's last name is Yoon, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance's last name is Serrano, Langst, M/M, Mild Language, Pansexual Character, Pansexual!Lance, Pining Keith (Voltron), Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Squish!Hunk, dealing with sexuality, lance learns to accept himself, the trouble of being not gay or straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 02:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11637372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassAlice/pseuds/GlassAlice
Summary: When the stars are patternless and space is less of a dream and more of a nightmare-- how do you know who you are?Lance couldn't find that answer on Earth, so how was he supposed to find it while fighting Zarkon? Lance's journey of self discovery and self acceptance is a long one. He is fighting a war against himself. A war on himself. Good thing Lance has friends. Though everyone looses their way sometimes, including those close to us.A story of sexuality and Lance.xoxo





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic is being revamped, so I'm rereleasing each chapter. Sorry that this took so long when it was a completed fic! Thank you to everyone who has stuck around during the hiatus of this poor little baby fic.

He first noticed it when he was eleven. He knew he should be feeling something, anything at all. Everyone else felt things, but he just didn’t. He didn’t feel anything. So he pretended. When his friends crushed on Patricia at school, he supposed her hair _was_ a nice brown and her frame was petite, so he played along. He fought the other boys to hold her hand during recess and bragged about kissing her behind the slide. He joined in with the other boys chasing girls around to flip up their skirts. 

It was what he was supposed to do.

When he was twelve his sister gave him a CD and a poster of Ariana Grande. He hung it dutifully up above his bed. When his mom asked who he thought was cute in Black Pink, he just pointed to the blonde one, because he had to like one of them. He was _supposed_ to like one of them. It was the correct way to be. Lisa joined the increasing number of scantily clad women lining his bedroom walls.

He didn’t understand the appeal; boys, girls, he didn’t see what everyone was so excited about. He felt like fraud, an imposter in a sexual world. Late at night he would Google asexuality and wonder if he belonged there. Other nights he would Google forbidden porn sites out of curiosity and look at the naked bodies of men and women. His stomach would feel funny and his face would flush during those stolen hours. Sometimes he would rub himself on the chair he was sitting on to relieve the feeling his belly.

At thirteen it finally happened. Alex, a friend of a friend, was introduced to him. That feeling stirred in his belly like it did late at night when he was alone with his computer. Alex had brown hair that dove for miles down to slender hips, and preferred hockey jerseys and skater shorts. Lance fell hard. He tried everything to get Alex’s attention. He was sure to walk next to Alex at all times, brushing up against an arm while he talked, and invited himself to all the hangout sessions. He just wanted to be around Alex, bask in that confident air and soak in the sight of too many T-shirts layered in a multicolored spectacle. 

He wanted to be Alex’s best friend, right? Yeah, that was it.

At fourteen Lance was accepted into the Galaxy Garrison for pilot training. He had to leave Alex, but he kept a picture in his wallet.

At the Garrison he got his first girlfriend, Anna. Anna was so cute. She had curly, dark brown hair that matched her eyes. She had pouty lips that Lance was instantly addicted to kissing. Her boobs were small but soft and all that mattered was she let him touch them. He made out with her every chance he got. Hickeys lined his neck after the weekend, and a smug smile was permanently plastered to the features of his face.

Lance was relieved. He was normal. He liked girls. He liked girls _a lot_. He liked how soft they were, how small they were, how warm they were. He liked their hair and their smell. He wasn't pretending anymore. He was totally normal.

It was after a particularly heavy make-out session with Anna that he ran into Nick--literally. Lance slammed into the shorter boy as he rounded a corner trying to sneak back to his room. They collapsed backward into a puddle on the floor, long legs and long arms sticking this way and that. Nick laughed and made a snide comment about the state of Lance’s neck. Lance and Nick became quick friends, especially since they were both in the cargo pilot track. Lance spent his days playing games and hanging out with Nick. They would lie on his bed and argue about which Gundam pilot was better, if Superman or Goku would win in a fight, or if it was better to eat ice cream in the summer or the winter. Sometimes their fights would escalate into physical wrestling. Lance would get extra passionate and start punctuating his arguments with a finger in Nick’s ribs. Nick would begin reinforcing his rebuttal with a shove.

Sometimes after these arguments Lance wished he could hold Nick the way he held Anna after a make out session. Other times he wondered what it would be like to simply crash his lips into Nick’s. Fear always held him back, made Lance keep his distance. Lance was _straight_. He had _Anna_. 

Lance really did like Anna, she was hot. And if you were a boy that liked girls, you were straight. That was the rule. So his thoughts about Nick must be how everyone felt about their best friend. Everyone loved their best friend. Everyone wanted to hug them and hold them and kiss them. Everyone pushed those feelings down, like he did, because those were not things you should do with your best friend. Nick was hot, everyone thought so, even Anna. You could be straight and appreciate boys’ beauty, right? Yeah, it had to be that.

He was still fourteen when Anna broke up with him. Nick and Anna had decided they liked each other more than Lance. His entire circle of friends split after the break-up; everyone seemed to take a side. When all was said and done, Lance was left with the barest fraction of the friends he had gained during his time at the Garrison, and those left to him wanted to forget it had even happened. He spent his days going to class and locking himself in his room, all desire crushed out of his existence.

He needed an outlet. He needed something to keep him distracted from the depression that was creeping up around him. 

He needed a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and tell me your favorite thing about our lovely blue Paladin on this wonderful birthday of his! <3
> 
> Thank you to my awesome amazing beta Dont_forget_your_towel <3 ily forever and ever <3 I couldn't have finished this in time without you :3 
> 
> I worked on this all month and it was only supposed to be a one-shot but it's going to end up being a multi-chapter fic. This fic is finished, I'll just be uploading the chapters one at a time.
> 
> I've wanted to study the idea of a Pansexual Lance for a while now. I, myself, am Pansexual so I'm drawing from my own personal experience here and translating it through the eye of Lance. My experience with being pansexual might be different than yours or others you know. 
> 
> Warning short essay to follow: 
> 
> About Lance's brief struggle with asexuality. I'm not saying that it's bad to be asexual here, these are just thoughts of a Lance trying to reason with himself and figure out the world. 
> 
> Again I'm pulling from my own experiences here and ADHD/Dyslexia/2E, which Lance is in my headcanon, can cause you to be emotionally behind others. So while other people were coming into their sexuality with puberty Lance was still emotionally childish. 
> 
> I think that it also explains his belief that he's not as smart as the others and acts like a goofball. 
> 
> "[The] struggle to accomplish tasks that appear easy for other students can leave 2E children frustrated, anxious, and depressed. It can rob them of their enthusiasm and energy for school and damage their self-esteem." 
> 
> "2E kids often have what’s known as asynchronous development. That means they’re far ahead intellectually, but far behind socially and emotionally" This really explains everything he does from bad flirting to being the emotional child in the group. Even Pidge seems more emotionally mature than him. 
> 
> Sorry for the essay at the end!


	2. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance comes up with the best of plans. It will obviously work, it's totes foolproof. Comments are cherished forever and ever. (*≧∇≦)ﾉ＜※*・:*:｀♪:*:。*・☆*

Lance tromped down the hall, a scowl marring his soft skin and accentuating his sharper features. The test results were out and Lance figured he’d better go look at them, even if it meant he’d lost his spot to _Nick_. The list was pinned on a board in front of the training room; a small crowd of students gathered there peeking over each other’s shoulders at the tiny black lettering on official paper. Lance shoved his way to the front unapologetically, elbowing the stubborn ones out of the way.

The list was broken into tracks, pilots were all listed on one side, beginning with the fighter pilots and descending all the way to traffic control. Lance scanned down till he found the cargo pilots. 

He was at the top. 

A wave of relief washed over him--he hadn’t lost his spot. The last thing he wanted right now was to lose to _Nick_. Actually, he wanted to get as far away from _Nick_ as possible, it was miserable being so close to his ex-best friend. 

"If only I could switch tracks." Lance sighed, still hogging all the space in front of the post board. 

He scanned the fighter pilot list and noticed the name at the top: _Keith Yoon_. Lance’s eyes widened, flashing with the fire of determination. That was his target. If Lance could prove that he was better than this Keith guy, he could transfer up to the fighter pilot track! They wouldn't be able to deny him his rightful place once he’d beaten the school’s number one pilot. Lance punched the list, crinkling the paper in a twisted circle around his fist. “I won’t lose to a guy like you!” Lance whooped and hollered, spinning around.

The group that gathered, pressed in toward the list to find their rankings, now stood carefully back from him, observing him with curious eyes.

Lance sucked in a breath and puffed out his chest. “You heard it here first! Lance Serrano is going to beat Keith Yoon’s ass!”

Sudden curious whispers ricocheted throughout the crowd--‘Who is Lance?’, ‘Why should I care?’, and ‘I hear Keith is pretty hot’. Lance didn’t hear any of these things; he was too busy thinking about how he was going to go about kicking this _Keith_ off the top of the pilot list.

Lance shoved his way out of the circle of students and sprinted down the hall. He ran straight to the office, only knocking over two innocent bystanders on his way. He snatched the paperwork for a Course Transfer out of the wooden rack that hung just inside the door. Lance plucked a pen from a nearby cup and filled out each field vigorously.

“The fighter pilot program is full,” a dull voice droned across the counter. A bored woman seated opposite him watched disinterestedly as he scribbled in each space. 

Lance huffed, “Not for long, I’m going to beat Keith!”

The woman nodded noncommittally, looking back down to the book in her lap, “That’s nice, sweetie. Well, yellow forms go in the box at the end of the counter.”

Lance finished signing and dating the form with a flourish. “Thanks, Molly!” The woman looked up in surprise at first, mouth hanging slightly ajar. Her face scrunched as if searching through her memory before ultimately setting when she remembered she was wearing a nametag. Lance shoved his transfer form into the wooden box slot with a nod of approval. 

"I'm a genius!" he crowed, slamming the office door open and strutting to his next class.

________________________________________

 

Lance groaned. It’d been three weeks already and he was no closer to passing the training simulation. He banged his head on the desk until it stung. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” The new ranking list would be posted next week and he needed to find a way to get rid of Keith. If he couldn’t figure this out, he’d never get promoted to the fighter pilot program. Lance squeezed his eyes shut and moaned louder. Through his eyelids, Lance saw a shadow cross over him.

“Hey buddy, you okay?” a warm voice asked.

Lance slowly opened his eyes, he was greeted by a massive boy staring down at him with a warm expression. The larger boy’s wide smile and large brown eyes reminded Lance of his big brother; he immediately liked this guy.

“I’m fine,” Lance whined, “if fine means your life is over.”

The larger boy’s face crumpled in concern, “Are you hungry? Whenever I’m hungry I feel like my life is ending.”

Lance couldn’t help the smile that broke out across his face. “I could probably use some food." He sat up, flipping around and stuck his hand out to the bigger boy, "I’m Lance.”

“Hunk, I'm in the mechanical engineering track." His warm hand engulfed Lance's long fingers.

"Well I hope you're also in the chef track because I really don't want to eat that garbage they call food in the cafeteria."

Hunk’s laugh was deep and contagious, it took the heaviness away from Lance's chest instantly. "I got you covered. Just follow me!"

Lance followed Hunk outside to the very edge of campus, the concrete wall that encircled most of the Garrison met chain link in a messy transition. The chain link fence ran for only a few yards before meeting up with solid wall again. 

Hunk gestured to a cleanly snipped section of fence, “Found this last year, it's the only way off campus if you don't want anyone to know.”

“Wow, do you normally sneak out of school so casually?” Lance quirked a plucked eyebrow at Hunk, who pressed open the stretch of chain link, creating a hole big enough to squeeze through.

“Not really,” the larger boy admitted, smiling down at him, “but I can’t stop myself when I see a kicked puppy.” Hunk waved an impatient hand, motioning for Lance to go first. 

Lance bristled, “I’m not a kicked puppy! If anyone is a puppy here, it’s you.” He stopped at the ground with a foot and turned his back on Hunk. 

Hunk put his free hand on his hip, studying Lance for a moment, "You're right, my mistake. A kicked kitten." Hunk laughed and pushed through the chain passageway, heading off in the direction of town.

"Hey! Get back here!” Lance called, pressing through the fence, a sharp tip of cut wire snagged at his jacket and it took him a moment to untangle himself. “I'm not a kicked anything! Hey are you listening to me?!” Lance yelled at Hunk's retreating frame before pulling free from the fence,jacket intact, “I'm a beautiful man that’s not kicked at all!" Lance jogged to catch up to Hunk.

“Sure, man, whatever you say.” Hunk gave him a sideways smile and patted him on the back.  
They wove down the road and into the neighboring town. Lance never asked where they were going, except to inquire how much farther it was. Soon enough, they arrived at a small roadside cafe. _Jolly Grind Tearoom_ was scrawled in cursive gold letters on the glass door.

"We snuck out and risked detention for... _tea_?" Lance asked, casting a suspicious gaze at the tall boy to his left.

"I'm hurt you don't trust me!” Hunk pouted, placing a hand over his chest feigning hurt. Lance felt bad for point two seconds before a small smile tweaked the corners of Hunk’s mouth. 

Lance rolled his eyes, "I don't even know you," He folded his arms tightly across his chest glaring at Hunk in exasperation.

Hunk smirked, his chest puffing up in pride, “You don’t need to know me, you just need to know that this place has the best pasta of all time." 

“How am I supposed to trust your word that this is the ‘best pasta of all time’ if I don’t know you? The problem hasn’t been solved.” Lance lifted a sculpted eyebrow, leaning toward Hunk smirking smugly.

"Good point,” Hunk admitted, looking up as he considered. “Well, just give it a chance…I know my food." Hunk motioned to his large belly and laughed.

Lance couldn't help but chuckle in response. This Hunk guy’s personality was endearing and, frankly, contagious. Hunk lead the way into the cafe, selecting a windowed booth for the pair of them and taking a seat.

"Hunk! It's good to see you again.” An older woman, slight of build, called out from over Hunk’s shoulder, and he turned to see her approach. “And I see you brought a friend. How lovely.” She smiled at the pair of them.

"It's good to see you too, Mabel!” Hunk smiled back at the women, "This is Lance,” Hunk gestured with an open hand at Lance who smiled and wiggled his fingers in greeting. “He’s a student at the Galaxy Garrison too."

"Wonderful, wonderful. It's nice to have such handsome young men in my little cafe."

Lance eyes glinted, an eyebrow raised and an easy smile relaxing his features as he joined the conversation, "I'd be happy to grace this cafe with my face everyday if it meant seeing you."

The woman chuckled placing a hand on her cheek, "Oh Hunk, what a charming friend you have." She patted Lance's shoulder in camaraderie then turned to face Hunk, "Now what can I get you? The usual?"

Hunk nodded. "Yeah, and the same for Lance, but a normal portion."

Lance's smile faltered, "I'm not a child you know, I can order for myself."

"It's not like that, Lance. Carbonara is Mabel’s signature dish. You _have_ to try it. I'm not giving you a choice,” Hunk insisted, adjusting his cutlery absently. “I'm telling you, Mabel's recipe is out of this world."

A frown continued to crease Lance’s forehead. "I've never had carbonara before," he began.

"Well, if you're going to eat something for the first time, it might as well be the best,” the older woman said with a smile, “and my carbonara is the best." Mabel winked.

Lance smiled back, "Well, there's no way such a beautiful lady could make food that wasn’t spectacular."

"That's right, young man!" Mabel turned to Hunk, pointing her thumb toward Lance, "You can bring him by whenever you'd like,” she said before hobbling to the back to start the pasta. Hunk stood and walked to a station to get them both self-serve waters with lime.

"So…” Hunk placed one of the paper cups in front of Lance as he slid back into the booth, “what had you so down before?" 

Lance’s eyes widened a bit, "Didn't we decide it was food?"

“I'm sure food will help.” Hunk smiled shyly. “Look, you don't have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Hunk paused fiddling with his cup, “But I'd be willing to listen if you wanna share. I’m an _excellent_ listener."

Lance slumped back into the booth bench with a heaved sigh. "I mean, yeah, I guess I don't _really,_ have anyone else to talk to." Lance looked up at Hunk's face to gauge how much he could trust his new almost-friend. After a moment of silence, Lance shotgunned his entire water glass and resigned himself to his choice. 

He started with Anna, Lance told Hunk about their relationship and how he thought it might have been love or at least really good list. And about his ex-friend Nick, glossing over any of the convoluted feelings associated with said boy, he didn't want to press his luck. He told Hunk how Anna cheated on him with said ex-friend, just as the pasta arrived at their table. 

There was a pause in the story as Lance gushed over the pasta, declaring that he'd never touch spaghetti again when something this delicious existed on planet Earth. Once Lance was done with declaring his love for pasta, he resigned himself to telling his new friend what a miserable friendless loser he'd decided to spend time with. 

Hunk waited patiently as Lance explained the rift the messy breakup created in his circle of friends,his blue eyes glossy with unshed tears. Hunk grabbed Mabel as Lance finished his story and ordered some cake to share. Cake could cheer up anyone. 

Lance eyed Hunk as he ordered. He’d sat there the whole time Lance was speaking, listening intently, and even seemed concerned for Lance's plight. Genuine concern, not the kind he’d seen from his so-called friends after Anna’s betrayal. And he’d only met Hunk this afternoon. Lance thought that maybe this was a bit what soulmates felt like, an immediate camaraderie, a closeness and ease that went beyond normal relationship standards. Instant connection and understanding. Hunk set his fork down and looked at Lance with a serious expression.

"That's just shitty."

Lance chuckled harshly. He could say that again. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"Well, you have _me_ now,” Hunk said simply, “I'll be your friend."

Lance's jaw dropped for a moment, the statement so purely childish and refreshing that it stunded him into silence. He shook his head smiling and held out his hand to Hunk, who looked at him curiously.

"I've only known you for a few hours and you've been more of a friend to me than anyone at the Garrison. Let's be best friends." Lance's smile brightened, creasing his eyes.

Hunk grinned and took Lance's hand in his, "It's a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post chapter 1 along with the prologue today! It's no fun to just read some exposition and no story. 
> 
> xoxo
> 
> Edit: chapter completely revamped :0 hopefully it's just a little better! The fic is alive I swear!


	3. It's Not Working

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in Lance doesn't know the difference between teasing and flirting. Also I'm so in love with squish!Hunk, so have some more.

-One Week Later-

 

Lance lay sprawled in Hunk's room, taking up the whole of the other boy's bed. Hunk himself was seated on the floor, carefully taking apart some new mechanical toy that Lance was halfway convinced might be a bomb.

Throwing his arms up above his head in exasperation, they bounced softly on the soft fluff of the mattress, "And then he just walked away. Didn't even look at me!" Lance whined in Hunk's general direction.

Hunk sighed, this was the umpteenth time he'd heard this story. He didn’t want to interfere, but this was getting out of hand. Hunk knew he would have to do something about Lance's little plan, before he went _crazy_.

"Can you _believe_ that? It’s not fair, I totally would have beat him if it wasn't for that stupid simulated storm.” Lance craned his neck so that he was looking at Hunk upside down, “Who puts a storm in a simulation anyways?"

"The simulation programmer?" Hunk offered with a small smirk he tried to hide with a set of pursed lips and a feigned look of consternation. 

Lance sat up on his elbows, shooting Hunk an exasperated look, "Ha. Ha. Very funny, Hunk. There's no point in putting a storm during a test unless you're specifically testing us on storms!" Lance made a frustrated noise similar to that of a dying seagull and collapsed back on the downy comforter, flopping his arms out beside him in a T-shape. "Besides, I even tried to be the bigger man, right? So, I go up and congratulate him and he just WALKS OFF.” Digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, Lance watched the firework of color go off behind his eyelids as he continued, “Can you believe that? I didn't _have_ to congratulate him, Hunk, but my mother raised a polite boy. And he just-- gawh!" Lance dragged his hands from his eyes to tug at his hair, the short strands quickly slipping from his fingers unharmed.

"Maybe he didn't see you." Hunk shrugged.

Lance ignored him, "I'm his biggest rival and he won't even give me the time of day! It's like he doesn't even know I exist! Dumb mullet head."

"You seem pretty obsessed with _his mullet head_ , Lance."

"Obsessed? I'm not obsessed, he's my rival; if I don't beat him I'll never be in the fighter pilot track and I'll be stuck with _Nick_ forever." Eyes shooting open in horror, Lance gasped as his head whipped to stare incredulously at Hunk, "They might even put us on the same team."

"Aren't you both pilots?” Hunk scoffed. “Why would they even do that?"

"Because I have the worst luck in the universe! They'll probably run out of engineers and maybe Nick flunked out of engineering but he's all they have left so Iverson assigns him to my ship." Lance covered his head with both hands, whispering to himself, “Iverson’s an ass, he’d totally do it.” 

"Iverson _is_ an ass,” Hunk agreed, “but, that's not going to happen, Lance, and you know it. You don't have to beat this rival of yours to make it into the fighter pilot track, that’s just some ultimatum you put on yourself."

"Not all of us can be geniuses like you, Hunk,” Lance said, lolling his head, meeting Hunk’s gaze with an eye roll. “Some of us have to work our asses off just to make it. I'm not going to go anywhere fast unless I work harder than everyone else."

Hunk wiggled a finger at Lance like a mother scolding a child, “I see through your pretty words, Lance. Don’t use me to call yourself stupid, you’re _not_ stupid.” Lance looked down, picking at his nails, shame slowing heating up his face. Hunk sighed sitting back on his hands, "Look Lance, I get it. But maybe you should stop obsessing over beating this," Hunk made air quotes with his fingers, "‘stupid-haired know it all’ and come study with me. You can improve your grades in your other classes and that'll make up for your flying score.” Hunk paused, biting his lip, “I'll even read the books to you."

Lance cringed, Hunk meant well but sometimes he could say really thoughtless things. _If I didn’t feel like a dumb child before…_  
"Thanks, Hunk,” Lance said aloud as he sat up, staring down at his open palms resting in his lap, “but I doubt your study group is going to want someone like _me_ in it.” Hunk tried to interrupt but Lance raised his voice speaking over him, “Plus, it's embarrassing. I don’t want you reading the textbook to me in front of all those brainiacs."

"How many times do I have to tell you before you get it through your thick skull? You aren't stupid, Lance," Hunk said, sounding almost angry before his face softened, "c’mere." Hunk held out his arms.

Lance crawled pitifully over to Hunk and accepted the offered hug. The citrusy scent of Hunk’s detergent filled his senses and overwhelmed his system, he smelled like home. Lance closed his eyes, relaxing into the embrace. 

"You can't change the fact that I'm stupid and went to stupid class in Elementary school. It's just a fact of life." Lance quietly protested, although all the fire had burnt out from his words.

Hunk placed a finger on Lance's lips to shut him up, "Don't call it ‘stupid class’.” Lance pouted against the finger, “Listen, Lance, you have all this confidence when it comes to hitting on girls and wooing small town cafe owners, why don't you try to funnel some of that confidence into your studies?” Hunk stroked Lance’s hair rhythmically, soothing the other boy into a calm reverie, “You speak two languages, you’re the number one pilot in the Cargo Track, and you have the top rank at the shooting range, you can't be stupid and accomplish all that. Dyslexia doesn't determine your intelligence level, Lance, not just anyone can get into the Garrison. You know that. Your brain is just different."

Lance tried to pull away in protest with a feeble, "Yes, it does," but Hunk was too strong, Lance gave in to his friend’s administrations, snuggling back up with a defeated sigh.

"Sometimes, I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” Hunk cooed, a sadness in his voice, and an absolute belief in his words. “You're smarter than you give yourself credit for. _A lot_ smarter."

Lance's face turned red-hot and he squeezed closer to Hunk. The sentiment was nice, but Lance’s whole body rejected it, his brain arguing against every word as it fell from Hunk's mouth. Lance’d barely scraped by in school for most of his life and his spelling was atrocious. Hunk would never understand the mortification of having to ask someone to spell the word ‘of’ because your ‘brain is just different’.  
_Just because I’m good at a few things, doesn't mean I’m smart. If I was smart, I would be a fighter pilot._ Lance grumbled inwardly, but there was no use saying that to Hunk, he would just keep insisting that Lance's insecurities had no ground to stand on. Instead, Lance opted for a simple, "Thanks, Hunk."

Lance melted into Hunk’s side as a warm hand rubbed soothing circles on his back, "No problem, buddy."

 

-The Next Day-

 

Lance stared at the black mullet in front of him, tufts of dark hair covering a pale neck. He'd taken to sitting right behind Keith in all the classes they shared. _Keep your enemies closer_ , and all that.

Two weeks of concentrated effort and Keith was still pulling ahead of Lance in almost every class; most frustratingly in the Flight Simulator. In spite of his best efforts, Lance couldn't manage a score high enough to beat Mr. No-Bueno-Hair. But worse than all that, Keith still had yet to even _acknowledge_ their rivalry.

Tearing another strip from the handout, Lance balled it up and placed it in his ever-growing munitions pile. The wadded paper covered the entire upper right corner of his desk in blatant insubordination. Professor Chantey droned on about the physics calculations necessary for shifting from space to atmospheric flight, showing slides of the angles of re-entry and velocity. Lance blew his short bangs up off his face in frustration and rolled his eyes. Chantey was the most boring professor of the lot.

He smiled fondly down at the collection of ammunition he’d painstakingly created. If Keith wouldn't notice him on his own, then Lance would _make_ him notice. Lining up a single paper ball with Keith's black head of hair, Lance took the shot.

The paper wad flew true, striking its target and bouncing harmlessly to the floor. Keith didn't move. Lance lined up his second ball, letting it fly with a little less force. This time it stuck itself deep within the hair of that ridiculous mullet.

" _Yes_!" Lance cheered under his breath, barely restraining himself from laughing out loud. Lance prepared a third sphere of paper artillery and, utilizing the same technique, soon a second piece of paper had wedged itself deep within the the long mane. This time, Lance was sure he saw the boy twitch.

Undeterred, Lance launched a fourth round and froze as Keith raised a hand to feel the back of his head, spine straightening as he plucked a small paper ball from within its strands, drawing it in front of his eyes and examining it closely. Glancing around the around the room, Keith searched for evidence of the culprit. Lance made himself busy with note taking, carefully obscuring his disposable armory.

Keith cautiously faced forward, eyes wary and thin as they made one last scan. Lance shot another wad his way.

This time Keith pivoted quickly in his chair, a glare shooting like daggers from his eyes. He scoured the rows of students, accusing each one with a look. Lance could feel the heat of Keith’s gaze as it settled on the top of his bowed head. Those eyes narrowed on him. "Stop," Keith mouthed in the barest of whispers, flipping forward in his seat.

Lance waited a good three minutes before flicking two wads rapid fire into Keith’s black mane. Keith sprang out of his seat, glaring directly at Lance, and spoke in a low voice, "I _said_ stop it."

"Yoon, is there a problem?" Professor Chantey asked.

Keith turned around and sat down in a huff, "No, Professor."

"Then I ask that you not interrupt me again." Chantey scolded dully.

It seemed a shame to waste his remaining artillery. So Lance waited until just before the end of class before letting loose his entire arsenal into Keith's mullet in quick succession.

Keith spun around, sending little paper balls flying out of his ridiculous hair. He glared straight into Lance's eyes, too quick for Lance to dodge, "I don't know what your problem is, but leave me alone!"

"Yoon. This is the second time you've interrupted my class,” the Professor remarked. “One hour of detention."

"What?” Keith’s voice was incredulous. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t do anything. It was him!" Keith pointed a finger at Lance.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lance crossed his arms defensively.

"What, did these just fall out of the sky?" Keith pinched a paper ball between his fingers.

"You're blaming me without proof," Lance shrugged in response. “ _Innocent until proven guilty._ ”

"That is enough, _two_ hours of detention for _both_ of you.” Lance’s mouth dropped open and Keith attempted to protest, but the Professor cut him off, “I'll see the two of you back here at four p.m. sharp." The bell rang, punctuating Chantey's punishment with its own shrill scream.

Keith spun in his chair, slapping both hands down on the lacquered surface of his desk with a strangled noise. He furiously shoved his papers and books into his bag, violently storming out of the classroom, sparing not even a backwards glance for either the professor or for Lance.

Lance watched the spectacle with a tinge of fear, eyes widening. Maybe Keith wasn't someone to mess around with, he mulled. At least he was certain the desk felt that way. God, this sucked. He'd only meant to annoy Keith, force him to finally acknowledge Lance, not get himself thrown in detention with the hothead. Lance sighed, gathering his things halfheartedly.

"This is going to be a long-ass day," he sighed, rubbing his temples.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance just doesn't know when to quit, but that's why we love him right? 
> 
> Special thanks to my new Beta! Size_Monarch <33 It's been so fun working with you!!!
> 
> I've decided to upload a chapter every Wed. It's the day I have the most time to make sure everything is edited and formatted to the way I want. So please look forward to an update every week! 
> 
> I love to hear your comments and reactions good or bad! Thank you for my kudos xoxo Everyone who is reading this is making my day just that much happier.


	4. Detention

-4:00 PM-

Lance couldn't believe what a little _snitch_ Keith was. How dare Keith drag him into detention along with him! Sure, Lance _was_ technically the one who threw the paper balls, but no one liked a tattle tale; apparently someone never learned the law of the playground. His only saving grace was a Cheer-Up-Lance-Cake Hunk promised to have waiting for him after detention. Lance took a breath, steeling himself. Squaring his shoulders, he marched through the glass double doors -- a gateway to the next two hours of hell.

"Ah, Mr. Serrano, I see you've decided to grace us with your presence." Lance set his jaw and slumped up to the front of the classroom, settling in next to Keith. "You and Mr. Yoon will each write a 1500 word essay on proper classroom etiquette. By hand. I want it on my desk at 6:00 PM sharp."

Lance groaned, rolling his head to one side. "Handwritten? What, are you going to make us scrape gum from the desks and clap erasers together, too?" He mimed the actions in overtly sarcastic gestures. 

"I’ll have none of your lip, Serrano, or I’ll make it three hours." Chantey turned up his nose, "I don’t know how someone like you made it into the Garrison in the first place.” Lance pressed his lips together and swallowed his comeback; years of teachers treating him as the class problem taught him when to keep his mouth shut. “I want you two to reflect on your behavior.” Chantey tapped on the stack of pristine lined paper on his desk. “I will see you at six o’clock." The professor’s face dripped with disdain, sneering at Lance out of the corner of his eye as he strode out of the room.

“Goddamn Professor thinks he’s better than me,” Lance savagely snatched a sheet of paper off the desk, the paper cracking as it whipped through the air. Turning on his heel, he sat down at the closest desk with a huff. He looked up to see Keith fingering his paper gently with pursed lips, but stood unmoving at the front of the classroom. Lance quirked an eyebrow at the dark haired boy’s back, _What is he doing?_ Then, he was all movement; in a flourish of paper and quick steps, Keith placed himself at the desk furthest from Lance.

"Oh, come on!" Lance cried, eyes rolling so hard his entire head joined in, "Really? You're going to be like that? I don't have cooties, y’know!" It wasn’t like he expected Keith to sit right next to him, but common courtesy would be a desk or two away, not the whole room, _Does he hate me that much?_

"I just want to finish this assignment and leave,” Keith said, making a few notes in the corner of his paper with his head down, intent on the assignment. “Please shut your mouth for more than three seconds at a time."   
Heat boiled in Lance’s stomach; he was not getting away with that, "Oh. _OhohooOOooh_ , I see how it is,” Lance said, nodding with narrowed eyes, leaning almost fully out of his seat as he stared daggers at the youth across the room. “You're the one that got me into this mess and now you're acting like _I'm_ the one bothering _you_."

Keith scoffed, head whipping up in his direction. "You are,” he replied, taken aback. “You literally _are_ the one bothering me. And _you_ are the one that got us into this mess with your spitballs!"

He tried to push down the hurt that stung his heart, _Why are you letting him get to you? Just ‘cause he’s top of the class doesn’t mean anything, he’s not anyone._ "Gross, man,” Lance groaned, “they’re not spitballs, just paper, no spit. God, you're such a drama queen."

"And you're a prick,” Keith replied, his face was perfectly blank of emotion, but his eyes were barely contained fire. “Just shut up and leave me alone." He returned to his paper, scratching out the first line of his essay.

" _Just shut up and leave me alone_ ," Lance mocked in a high-pitched voice.

Keith let out a frustrated growl. He picked up his desk, scraping it across the floor with a teeth grinding screech as he faced it toward the opposite wall, back to Lance. 

Lance stuck his tongue out at Keith, even though the other couldn’t see. Petty and childish? Maybe. Worth it? Definitely. Sighing, he turned to his blank paper. Brandishing his pencil, Lance balanced it in the center, rocking it back and forth as it gently tapped the surface of the desk and pondered his predicament. He hadn’t done anything wrong, so how was he supposed to write 1500 words about it?

"Stop that."

Lance looked up, groaning out an exasperated sigh, "Stop what? I'm not doing anything."

"Tap tap tap,” Keith intoned in rhythm, “Your pencil, it's driving me crazy. Stop it."

Lance quirked an eyebrow, mouth hanging open as he gaped at the cocky SOB’s ridgid back. "Oh my God, are you serious?"

Keith turned in his chair, half-facing Lance, "Yes. I've seriously never met anybody so annoying in my life."

That was it, he’d had it up to here with this rude, arrogant boy, "You don't even _know_ me!" Lance barked as he shot out of his chair and stalked over to Keith's desk. "You don't know anything about me, mullet-head." He poked Keith's shoulder to punctuate his point.

"Mull..?" Keith was taken aback for a moment before recovering quickly, "I don't need to know anything about you to understand how annoying you are." Keith glared up at Lance, “Even the professor can’t stand you.”

Lance felt a familiar feeling rising up, spurring him to fight back. His heart raced, "You know what? Fine. I didn't wanna be your rival anyway." Lance went to poke Keith again and stopped short. He blinked. Something about this feeling was a bit too intatamite, too raw.

"My what?" Keith sputtered aghast, "Wait, you thought we were rivals? I don’t have time for childish games, cargo pilot."

Keith didn’t think anything of him, this whole time that he was obsessing over their rivalry-- he wasn’t even a speck on the other boy’s radar. Hunk was right. Lance couldn't help the blush that creeped up to his ears.   
Keith glanced down at Lance’s finger that was still hovering awkwardly between them then back up, eyes clashing.  
The overwhelming embarrassed at being chided and the feeling of familiarity, itching at his mind, was throwing him off center. Lance hid his hand behind his back and grabbed at the offending finger, his heart skipping, probably from the heat of their confrontation. "Yeah, well, better a cargo pilot than a...than a..."

"Yeah?" Keith’s eyebrows raised in challenge. Lance stared back at Keith’s passive face, totally speechless. The room seemed to disappear and all thought banished from his brain, everything replaced with black hair and shining eyes.

"Than a stupid-face!" Lance proclaimed, inwardly cringing at his lame excuse for a comeback, but stood his ground. Even if that ground was a cliff edge and one misstep would mean falling into a pit of feelings that were too scary to name.

Keith’s face squished into a frown, "That was the best you could do?"

"N...no. I just didn't feel like you were worth the effort." Lance stuck his nose up in the air, crossing his arms defensively. That stupid face was literally the only thing he could think of in the moment, the only thing he could see, but he wasn’t about admit that out loud. Lance had to stop this banter soon; his whole body felt hot and shaky.

"Yeah, I bet." Keith leaned back in his chair, "I doubt your tiny brain could come up with anything better if you had a week to think about it."

Stupid, stupid was safe, yeah, he was just being stupid, _Tiny brained, stupid Lance._   
Lance's whole face blushed red, his hands balling into fits. "Whatever, man." He kicked the leg of Keith's desk, causing the pencil to roll off and fall to the ground.

"Hey!" Keith protested, bending to retrieve his fallen pencil.

Walking briskly back to his desk, Lance ignored him and quietly took a deep breath as he sat down-- the ire and confusion boiling over inside him cooling with each inhale and exhale. Keith sat back, pointedly ignoring Lance.

At 5:42PM Lance leaned back to stretch in his desk, back popping on the plastic chair. He'd somehow managed to cobble together 1500 words of bullshit and brown-nosing that he felt was sufficient enough to get him out of any more trouble. As a bonus, he was certain that he hadn't misspelled any words. Lance silently prayed his thanks to the Google gods that were somehow miraculously able to decipher the gibberish his brain tried to pass off as words.   
Lance got up to place the sheet of paper on the professor's desk. Keith's paper was already sitting there. _When did he finish?_ Lance couldn't remember; he'd been hyper-focused on writing for the last hour or so. He thought back, there was literally no other memory besides his pencil, paper, and googling spelling words. Growling to himself, he placed Keith's paper on top of his own, hoping it would look like he finished first.

"That was petty." Lance spun around. Keith was staring at him from across the room, desk askew.

"Shut up," he retorted, shoving his hands in his jean pockets as shame creeped up his features. 

"You know, it doesn't matter who finishes first,” Keith chastised, playing with his pencil as he looked lazily at Lance, “as long as we're done by the time limit."

Lance crossed his arms in front of his chest, turning his head away to hide his blush, "I don't need to hear that from you."

"Well, after today you'll never have to hear from me again,” Keith said, leaning forward in his seat, both elbows resting on the desk. “I guess we’re both lucky.”

A pang shot through Lance's chest. First his rival refused to acknowledge him, then spent the last hour and a half mocking him, now, he never wanted to speak to Lance again. Rivals were supposed to be equals… what did that make _Lance_? He wasn’t _anything_. He was worse than a nuisance to Keith, he was a nobody. Lance huffed, flipping the papers back to their original order, his own messy, loopy letters sitting promently on the top of the stack.

"You know I don't actually care, right?" Keith called from his side of the room, face now buried in his phone.

Lance stalked back to his desk and pulled out his own phone. He opened up his recent messages and clicked on "Hunkylunk".

Lanceanova: God detention sucks, save me!!!

_Hunkylunk: Sorry bro, cake is cooling. I'm in the middle of making icing_

Lanceanova: Noooooooooo! Also, what flavor?

_Hunkylunk: Yellow cake with lemon icing_

Lanceanova: Oh god the good stuff

_Hunkylunk: Should be done by the time you're out of prison_

Lanceanova: Mullet face is going to be the death of me, I need all the cake I can get

_Hunkylunk: Mullet face? Your one sided rival guy is in detention with you?!_

Lanceanova: Yeaaaaaaaaaaah....  
Also :p

_Hunkylunk: Why are you in detention with your "rival"?_

Lanceanova: He’s not my “rival” he’s my /rival/   
Aaaand I might have been throwing paper wads at him during classsss.............

_Hunkylunk: God, Lance. Are you still trying your plan?_  
Cause this is getting out of hand.  
You need to leave him alone. 

Lanceanova: It was his fault for overreaching  
Reacting*   
Stupid autocorrect

_Hunkylunk: *sigh* Lance, I don't know if you deserve any cake now_

Lanceanova: NO! Hunk! Not the cake! The cake didn't do anything wrong!  
I'll...I'll apologize or something, just leave the cake out of this!

_Hunkylunk: Ok... If you apologize then you can have cake_

Lanceanova: Fine.

Lance locked his phone and shoved it back in his pocket. He peered up at the clock. 5:53 PM. The professor would be back any minute. He glanced over to Keith, who looked like he was texting on his own phone. Resigned, Lance decided to get this over with before the professor came back. He pulled himself from the too-small seat and crossed the room. Keith looked up at Lance as he approached his desk.

"Hey, um,” Lance began, looking at a point just the right of Keith’s face. “So, I'm sorry. About all this. I guess."

Keith just stared up at Lance blankly, blinking slowly.

"It's for the cake, okay?"

"Okay?" Keith half-asked, brows furrowing.

"Good. Glad that's over. Now we can go back to hating each other again." Lance walked back toward his desk, a knot tightening in his chest as he accepted the utter dismissal of his once-rival.

"I don't hate you, you know." It was soft and hard to hear, but it definitely came from the dark eyed boy in the corner.  
Lance froze mid-step. He turned, gazing over his shoulder to look at Keith.

"What?" he asked slowly, the image of the cliff surging to the forefront of his mind.

"I don't hate you,” Keith confirmed, a little louder, shrugging. “You're annoying and you got me in trouble, so I'm mad at you. But I don't hate you. It’s like you said, I don't even know you." Keith looked directly at Lance, holding his gaze.

"Oh." Lance took a breath, unable to say or think more. He felt the edge of his self control crumbling. 

 

_Clang_ The professor slammed the door open, striding into the room. 

Both boys jumped at the sound, Keith quickly looking down at his phone he still held in his hands. Lance’s head followed the noise, a vague feeling of loss seeped through him.   
Chantey thumbed through the papers on his desk, brining Lance’s to his face, scrutinizing over lines of text as if verifying their authenticity. _Come on, how would I even fake that?_ After what Lance felt was at least an eon and a half, the professor dismissed them both with the wave of his hand.

It took all his willpower not to look back at Keith as he tore out of the classroom. Lance cut down the hallway, Keith's words pounding in his head with each step as he ran back to Hunk's room for his detention cake.   
_I don't hate you, you know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had today off from work and I wanted to upload two chapters this week since my beta, Dont_forget_your_towel, was extra amazing and was able to edit so much! ꒰˘̩̩̩⌣˘̩̩̩๑꒱♡ 
> 
> Next chapter will be posted on Wed, like normal. Plus I really really want to get to the meat of the story and I just can't wait that long. We are so close to the fun stuff, or at least what I consider the fun stuff so like...the angst. I hope you enjoyed more Keith! We still have a while before Keith becomes a main part of the story, so enjoy him while he's here.
> 
> Thank you to all my little ミ☆ star children ミ★ who are reading this! (I'm gonna call you my star children now) I hope my humble fic makes your day a bit brighter!!（*’∀’人）♥
> 
> Edit: Special thanks to my new Beta! Size_Monarch This fic has gone through so many betas T_T it's so nice to be working with someone constantly! We're catching up fast! Soon it will be new chapters!!!


	5. Obsession

-Two Weeks Later-

Keith wasn’t in the training hall. Usually his dark mane haunted the equipment like clockwork, the same stations at the same time every day. But there was no sign of him. Lance pounded the treadmill’s speed button harder with each press until he was nearly sprinting.

Working out wasn't exactly something they did together; after the awkward detention the pair had seemingly agreed to a mutual disinterest in one another, and neither Lance nor Keith had approached the other since. But Keith could at least _tell_ him he wasn't going to be there today. Not that Lance cared one way or the other. Lance huffed in spite of his aching muscles, beads of sweat pressing from his temples and feet pounding angrily as he ran at a blank wall. 

He wasn’t even sure if Keith noticed him there. Lance actively hid from Keith any time they were in the training facilities together. Alright, so maybe he planned his day to ensure he’d arrive when Keith was there, but keeping his distance was a mutual thing. Definitely not a creepy stalker thing. Keith didn’t _want_ him any closer. He’d made that _perfectly_ clear. But for whatever reason no matter what was on his mind, no matter how anxious he was about classes or exams or teachers, everything evaporated with Keith in view. It was a stress management technique, nothing more. But it didn’t matter today, anyway, since stupid Keith wasn’t even here, and Lance’s tension continued to rocket.

“Oh, shit,” Lance breathed between gasps of air. What if Keith had noticed Lance creeping and changed his workout schedule? Well not _creeping_ , per se, but...

Lance slammed his fist on the red ‘emergency stop’ button and nearly broke the thing. The sweat pooling on his brow had drenched his face, his clothes damp and sticking uncomfortably to his skin. All he wanted now was a shower and some sleep. What was the point of training if Keith wasn't going to show up? He trudged himself to the showers and quickly rinsed off. His skin was still damp as he rushed to throw on his clothes and get back to his room. Grabbing his belongings, Lance stormed out of the communal bathrooms.

Approaching his room, Lance paused, spying a manila envelope wedged into the box by his door. Lance never got mail. It was too expensive to send packages, and messages were easier sent electronically. Curious, Lance drew the envelope out of his student notice box and examined it. It was thick and official-looking, bearing the Garrison’s seal embossed on its front. Lance flipped it over and tore at the flap eagerly, making messy work of the prestigious-looking seal. He pulled out a stack of papers. Forms? It was a stack of documents, some annotated with small arrow sticky notes indicating places for signatures. With a furrowed brow, Lance flipped the stack of paperwork over and saw a letter, addressed to him. The heading read, "OFFICIAL NOTICE OF CLASS CHANGE." He mumbled the title to himself, electricity shooting through his body. Lance sped-read the rest of the letter in disbelief, barely catching the words as he scanned down the page.

> Cadet **Lance Serrano** ,
> 
> We are pleased to inform you that your transfer request has been approved and you have been formally accepted as a member of the Fighter Pilot class at the Galaxy Garrison. In order to accept this transfer, you are required to submit the attached acceptance form IH23 on or before the **17th** of the current month. Forms 12-A through 14-C must also be completed by the end of business day on the **19th** of the current month. These forms must be completed in person at the Cadet Services Office. You must include an official sealed copy of your pilot score to attach to Forms 12-A through 14-C at the Cadet Services Office.
> 
> All new course materials must be obtained from the bookstore by no later than the **20th** of this month. A list of required and recommended course materials has been enclosed for your convenience. You will begin your new course schedule at the beginning of the new school term on the **25th** of the current month.
> 
> Please contact the Cadet Services Office immediately should you need additional copies of the enclosed forms: IH23 Acceptance form, updated class schedule, or materials list.
> 
> Congratulations,
> 
>  
> 
> Morris Iverson Cdr  
>  Commander Morris Iverson

Lance read the letter again. And again. He clutched it so hard that the paper crinkled under his grip. "¡Oh!" it slipped out barely a whisper then louder, "¡Ave María!" Eyes wide he spun on his heel and almost slammed into his own door when it didn't open fast enough.

He rushed out of his room and positively sprinted over to Hunk's. He crashed into several students in his haste, a few knocked clean to the floor in Lance's frantic wake, but he literally couldn't care less. He didn't even bother to say sorry, the thought never even occurred to him. His mind was filled with other thoughts. Lance didn’t slow his momentum, slamming his body into Hunk's door full force and banging on the door in desperation.

"¡Ay Dios Santo Bendito y la Virgen y la Santísima Trinidad, Hunk! Open up! 9-1-1! Emergency! It's the Lance-pocalypse and I need you!"

Hunk threw the door open, his hair dripping and a towel haphazardly slung around his hips. Lance’s foot stumbled forward at the sudden lack of barrier. "What's going on?" Hunk asked, a bit of shampoo dripping down his face.

Lance pushed passed Hunk, water soaking into his shirt as he brushed the sopping boy and wiggled into the room. "You'll never believe this. _I_ don't believe it. It's not real. Also put on pants. No wait, don't. This is too urgent for pants!"

Hunk closed the door and turned to face his manic friend. "I’m pretty sure pants are not optional." He started to walk to his dresser.

"They are, now!" Lance shoved the letter directly into his friend's face. "Tell me it's real. Santa Madre de Dios, Hunk, tell me this isn't a dream!" Lance begged.

Hunk grasped the paper, leaning back and stretching it away from his face far enough to actually read. A smile slowly crept across his face, "Not a dream, bro. You did it, Lance! You made it!"

Lance stood there for a second before speaking, "I…I did? I did! Oh my God, I really did!"

Lance launched himself into Hunk. Hunk grabbed him with his free hand, the other hand safely holding up his towel, and spun them in circles whooping.

When he was placed back on the floor, Lance had to lean onto Hunk for balance. His hand came to his forehead half in disbelief and half to stop the world from spinning.

"Hunk I'm a fighter pilot. I beat Keith."

Hunk smiled. "Well we aren't sure if it was Keith or not, the letter doesn't say why they accepted you. Maybe they opened up a new spot?"

"I _know_ it's ‘cause I kicked Keith's ass." Lance laughed.

Hunk slung his arm around Lance's shoulders, "Sure, buddy. Let's go celebrate!"

Lance smiled, "Jolly Grind?'

"Of course. But first, pants."

_________________________________________________

The next day Lace got up early before class, he couldn't wait to rub it in Keith's face. He was pretty sure Keith would be having breakfast right about now. Normally Lance missed breakfast, choosing to sleep in and starve till lunch. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for his beauty sleep, but today was different. He checked his hair in the mirror, smirking. "Lookin' good, Serrano."

Lance threw on a white hoodie with blue stripes on the sleeves that matched his eyes and stuffed his uniform shirt in his bag. He wasn’t technically allowed to wear anything but histhe uniform, but he’d change just before class started. This was his “lady-killer” hoodie, and today he was going to use it to kill Keith. Looking good was just a little added salt he wanted to sprinkle into their encounter. It was worth it, even if someone caught him.

"Time to find that bastard and rub it in his stupid arrogant face." Lance finger gunned his reflection before jogging out the door.

He checked the canteen first, since he knew for a fact Keith rarely missed breakfast. It was packed with students scrambling for food and finishing up last night’s homework. Most people ignored him, but a few gave his outfit the side eye. Lance ignored them, concentrating on finding a black mullet and dark eyes in a sea of orange and white.

Nothing. It had taken him a few sweeps but he was one-hundred percent sure that Keith was not at breakfast. Confused and frustrated, he quickly ran to check out other places Keith seemed to hang around.

He checked the training room, the simulator, and even the library on the other side of the campus, but still no Keith. He’d just disappeared, somehow wiped from the face of the planet. His usual haunts and hangouts were suspiciously Keith-less. Lance sighed. Class would be starting soon and he still had to change into his uniform top. _Lady-killer hoodie wasted_ , he thought with a tsk.

Lance shrugged off the hoodie. Oh well, the Garrison was a big place, and he’d see Keith in class. Keith might have skipped breakfast. And the simulator. And training. But he wouldn't skip class, he was too much of a nerd. Lance wouldn’t have the extra joy of looking ‘fine as hell’ but any chance to rub his success in Keith’s face was good enough.

_________________________________________________

Lance frowned. He sat in his usual chair, directly behind Keith's, but the chair in front of him remained empty. The chattering of students buzzed dully in his ears as an unknown student--sporting some stupid and distinctly mulletless hairdo--took Keith’s seat. He glared intently at what should have been Keith’s desk, shooting daggers into the blond head of curly hair that supplanted the antithetical mulleted head Lance should be staring at. The bell rang with no sign of Lance’s dark-haired rival.

Chantey strode into class and took his place at the front of the classroom. "Quiet down, everyone, I have an announcement." Chantey called out over the low rumble of chitchat. The room slowly came to a hush as students finished their conversations.

"I’m to inform you that there’s been a change of roster for the pilot programs. Unfortunately, Keith Yoon will no longer be joining us. However, congratulations to Mr. Lance Serrano for being chosen to join the fighter pilot track."

Polite, but indifferent scattered applause littered the quiet classroom.

Lance’s eyes jerked up, blondie’s heinous crime forgotten. Words tumbled from his lips, hot and jumbled, "What? Keith is gone?!" His thighs slammed painfully into the edge of the desk--when had he stood up?

Chantey glared in Lance’s direction, pure disdain clear on his face. "Apparently, that’s what has been decided. Now if you'd c-” Lance cut him off.

"But why would he leave? He's the _best!_ " Shaking a head of umber hair, heart pounding heavily in his chest, Lance slapped a hand on his desk to underscore his point.

Chantey sneered between clenched teeth, rattling off something that sounded practiced and political, "The circumstances for a student's departure from the academy are confidential.” Chantey turned away, a half smirk on his face, taunting, “But, you may ask Mr. Yoon on your own time if you wish."

Lance sputtered, "But, I don't know him. I have no way to get a hold of him!"

"That is not my concern.” The professor’s voice strained, as if talking to a small disobedient child, “Now with your permission, may we begin?" Chantey turned toward the holoscreen and launched straight into his lecture.

Lance clamped his jaw shut and sat down, bruises forming where soft flesh met hardwood. 

How could this be? Keith was gone? Did he get kicked out or did he just leave? If he left, why did he go? Lance felt a twist in his stomach. _Was it because of me?_

All he’d wanted to do was make a place for himself in the pilot track, to get away from Nick. Maybe Keith was just a casualty. Hunk was right, he’d fixated on beating Keith when he should have figured out a way in on his own. Lance’s fault or not, he’d never wanted Keith to leave the academy entirely. All the excitement from his achievement wooshed out of him in a shuddering breath, a cold lump settling heavily in his stomach. 

Lance didn’t make it in on his own--Keith was gone, and Lance was a replacement, a consolation prize when the Garrison couldn’t keep its prized pupil. There was no victory here.

Keith was gone and Lance had nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I went to post this chapter I realized that it was over 4000 words! Omg what had I done. So I broke it down into two chapters, chapter count has been updated accordingly.  
> Tags have also been updated. Added slow burn since this fic is actually pretty slow.
> 
> Thank you to all my ミ☆ star children ミ★ who are reading this even if you don't leave kudos or comments. Please look forward to the next chapter! It's my favorite of the pre-Voltron chapters and the reason I wanted to post twice this week.  
> ╰| ° ◞౪◟ ° |╯ As soon as we get to Voltron Keith will become a bigger part of this fic I promise. 
> 
> I just finished season 3 and OMG THE KLANCE /dead check out my Tumblr [Yuzuling!](http://yuzuling.tumblr.com/) for headcanons, season 3 ramblings, memes, and fic updates! xoxo


	6. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance spills his guts and Hunk is a big cinnamon roll. This chapter was very hard for me to write, it’s one of my most personal chapters and I was very emotional while writing this. 
> 
> Quick note: Lance is trying to find himself in this chapter and what he is going through is not what everyone goes through. In this fic he had a moment of his life where he thought he was asexual, which is fine. When we are looking for ourselves we sometimes test out different labels to see what works and what doesn’t. For Lance, asexuality is like heterosexuality, it’s not him. Those labels don’t fit. But asexuality is 100% valid and not persons who have “just not found the right person” that is not what happened in this fic and not what happens in real life. Lance has been a sexual person from the beginning, just a late bloomer. Asexual people all over the spectrum are beautiful and valid and nothing that Lance says or feels is meant to be a slight against the wonderful community of asexuality.
> 
> Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

Lance didn't hear a thing that Chantey said. He didn't even remember class ending. Somehow, he was just standing in front of Hunk's door not knowing how he got there.

Knuckles stung as he rapped softly. " _One sec’, Lance_." came the muffled call from the other side.

Lance argued with himself as he waited. Keith could do whatever he wanted, it didn't affect him. It's not like they were friends, they weren't even rivals according to Keith. 

That made them nothing. _Lance was nothing to Keith_.

He was so stuck in his own head, that he jumped when the door slid open. Hunk looked at him, confused, "You ok man? You look like you swallowed a rock."

Lance nodded and Hunk moved aside so he could enter, letting Lance lead the way, before joining him on the floor as they rested their backs against the bed. Lance picked at the carpet.

After a moment, Hunk sighed and nudged Lance with his shoulder, "What's up man?"

Lance swallowed thickly. "I don't really know."

"Okay." Hunk's face scrunched up in thought, "Well, does it have to do with you getting into the fighter pilot track?"

Lance nodded.

"Oh no, don't tell me they retracted the offer?" Genuine concern crinkled across his forehead.

Lance shook his head no.

"Oh that's good at least." Hunk sighed and slumped back, head resting against the mattress as he stared at the ceiling, "That leaves girl problems," Hunk paused looking out of the corner of his eyes for a reaction.

Lance shook his head again.

"-or Keith problems." Hunk finished, a knowing glint in his eye.

Lance let out a frustrated sound and carded his fingers through his hair, his body drooping even further into the ground, "I don’t know!” he whined.

"So Keith problems," Hunk confirmed, taking Lance's glare in stride, "Well, what happened? You get detention with him again?"

"No," it came out as a breath.

"Then what?" Hunk was out of ideas and out of patience.

Lance fidgeted for a second, buying himself time to form the hurricane of emotions into words and coming up short, "He's gone."

Hunk's eyebrows were getting quite the workout as they pulled themselves together across his forehead once again, " _He's gone_? What does that mean?"

Lance threw his arms in the air, gesturing wildly, "I dunno, he's gone. Not at the academy anymore. Left. They wouldn't tell me why, but apparently that's how I got in." He flopped his arms down by his sides and sat back with a huff.

"Well,” Hunk started slowly, careful to pick his words, “isn't that what you wanted? To be rid of Keith?"

"No! I mean yes, but not out of the Garrison, just out of the fighter pilot program." A knot formed in Lance’s stomach as he tried to reason out loud.

Hunk prodded again, "So you accomplished your goal, who cares if he quit school or whatever?"

The knot grew tighter, shifting till it made Lance nauseous, "Yeah I guess, but I feel bad, what if he left because of me?” he looked up at Hunk, his voice cracking, “What if he just couldn't stand me anymore and transferred to a different school?"

"I don't think that's the reason, Lance." Hunk stopped himself from chuckling but couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips.

Ignoring Hunk's teasing tone, Lance let his thoughts spill out of his mouth, "What if he got sick of me crashing his workout sessions, or sitting behind him in class. Maybe he thinks I’m stalking him! Oh God, do you think Anna talked to him?” Lance looked at Hunk in horror before shaking his head and settling back against the bed, “No, impossible, Keith doesn't talk to anyone."

"I see."

Lance glared at Hunk, " _What_ do you see?"

Hunk took a leap of faith, "You wanted him to stay here with you."

"Yes. I mean no. I mean... I don't know. I guess. It's more complicated than that."

Hunk nodded, "Yeah, no, I get it. You had fun chasing him, trying to beat him, fighting with him, and now he's gone."

"Yes! Exactly!"

"You're going to miss your rival."

"Yes! Yes!"

"Because you like him."

"Yes!" Lance froze, "Wait what?"

"You like him." Hunk repeated.

" _No._ No no no no. I didn't say that." Lance crossed his arms and shook his head.

"But you meant it."

"No way, Hunk, you’re talking crazy. Keith is dumb with his stupid black mullet hair and his stupid dark eyes, and his stupid smirk that he wears around all the time like he's better than me.” Lance imitated Keith with over exaggerated motions. “Oh, and his stupid eyes sometimes look purple, did you know that? Who has purple eyes? That's just weird. Freak of nature, that's what he is." Lance nodded, agreeing with himself.

Hunk just quirked an eyebrow at Lance.

"I don't like him, and that's final."

"You know I don't care if you like him right?" Hunk put a hand on Lance’s knee.

Lance felt cold fear creep into his stomach, "I _don't_ like him okay?"

Hunk sighed and squeezed Lance’s knee hoping to comfort the other boy, "Lance, I’mma be real with you for a second. I've never met this guy and I know more about him than probably his own mother.” 

Lance opened his mouth to protest but Hunk held up a finger and tutted him, “Do you know why? Because you never stop talking about him. You schedule your whole day around trying to bump into him, and when you don't, you whine to me _all night_. I love ya man, but you're being kinda dense here."

Lance sucked in a breath. His stomach felt like lead and he clutched the carpet like a lifeline, his nails ached as they pulled against the fibers, "I can't like him, he's a _boy_." 

A moment passed as they were both quiet, "And I'm not gay. Anna was a bitch, but she was hot and I liked kissing her."

Hunk nodded, "Yeah that's true. I'm not saying you didn’t like Anna."

Lance's grip on the abused carpet loosened a little.

"I'm just saying that, well, maybe, you just like who you like, y’know? You liked Anna and now maybe you like Keith. You're Lance, and Lance just likes who he likes kind of thing. Not gay or straight, just… _Lance_."

A self-deprecating smile cracked along his face, "I sound like a freak that doesn't belong."

Hunk’s hand lifted from Lance’s knee ruffled his hair, "None of that. You one-hundred percent belong.” Hunk shrunk down so he could be eye-level with Lance, “You belong here, as my bestie right?"

Lance looked doubtful under his mussed hair, "I guess."

Hunk scoffed, "I'm offended, and here I thought we were best buds who could talk about anything."

Lance play-punched him in the arm, "Of course we are, we're soulmates."

"Then tell me. I’m not going to judge you. You’ll still be Lance, my best bud after this. I _promise_."

Lance sucked in a deep breath and held it until his lungs started to hurt, then finally let out a heavy sigh. "I guess if I can't tell you, I can't tell anyone. I don't really know what any of this means, but, that's what you're here for right?"

"Exactly what I'm for." Hunk smiled.

Lance nodded relaxing a little. He shifted so that he could pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled a frayed picture out from behind his student ID and handed it to Hunk.

Hunk looked at the picture, the person was androgynous and he wasn't sure if he was looking at a boy or a girl. They had long brown hair, were sporting a blue Leafs' hockey jersey, and their face screamed that school pictures were hell on earth.

"That's Alex, my first crush, maybe, I guess. I mean I’ve never said that before to anyone. But yeah, that might be the best word for it.” Lance tried the words on his tongue again, “My first crush.”

There was a pause before he continued, “I actually thought I was asexual before that, can you believe it? Lance the Makeout-Maniac identified as asexual for a while.” He laughed bitterly, “Guess I'm just a late bloomer.” 

He continued without looking at Hunk, scared to see the reaction to his confession, “Alex looked so much like a girl but acted so cool, I couldn't help it. I was confused; I'd never crushed on anyone, boy or girl, then all of a sudden Alex happened.” 

Lost in his own thoughts, Lance’s vision filled with memories of his old school life and Alex. “I thought it was because I wanted to be their friend so badly. But, I've kinda realized it was more than that, after crushing on Anna. I realized that my crush on Alex was _way_ worse.”

Hunk pulled up close to Lance’s side as silent encouragement and Lance continued, “To be honest, I still crush on them even though we lost touch. I’m not sure if I’m okay with it.” 

Lance snuck a peek to see if Hunk was still listening before going back to staring intently at the floor, “Maybe I’m still just confused. Maybe I’m wrong, I don’t know."

Taking a deep breath and grabbed the abused carpet again, careful not to meet Hunk’s eyes, Lance whispered, "Then there's Nick."

Hunk looked up from studying the photo, "You mean the guy Anna cheated on you with? The asshole that dared to call you his best friend before me? _That_ Nick?"

Lance chuckled bitterly, "Yeah, _that_ Nick." He shook his head and sighed, "God, I've never told anyone this before."

Hunk put one arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

Hunk was warm and even though Lance was already hot from his emotional rollercoaster, Hunk was soft and calming, so he tucked himself close, accepting the comfort.

Lance's voice was barely above a whisper, "I think I might have crushed on Nick, I mean if Alex was a crush then...I'm not sure, but..." Lance trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. His past still stung a little and it was dripping in confusion and self-loathing.

He tried again, "Sometimes I would argue with Nick, just for fun. I'd pick a topic and then we'd just debate for hours. Sometimes the debates got heated and we'd wrestle. In those moments I'd wanna…” 

Hunk squeezed his shoulder and Lance found the courage to continue, “I wanted to, hug him, maybe.” Okay not that much courage, he tried again. “In the same way I wanted to hug Anna, y’know? And other times I'd..." 

The saliva in Lance's mouth was growing thick, he swallowed, hoping Hunk wouldn’t notice. " _I'd wanna kiss him_." It came out a scratchy whisper muffled by the folds of Hunk’s shirt.

 

He held his breath and waited. Waited for Hunk to push him away, to be angry, to call him disgusting. 

 

When all he got was a soft ‘go on’, Lance took a deep breath, heart in his throat and still on edge, “There were even times when I wasn't really into Anna, and I didn't want to kiss her or even be around her. Instead, I'd think of Nick.” 

Lance swallowed back tears, “Those were the most intense fights. She didn't understand that I needed space. During that time, I found Nick way more attractive, I didn't want to admit it, but I did.”

Lance pulled back to look at Hunk wide-eyed, fear making him bold, “Oh my God, do you think Anna knew?” 

Hunk shook his head and pulled Lance back toward him, “No, I doubt it. I barely knew and only because of Keith, not Nick.” 

Lance didn't like the dismissive tone in Hunk's voice, this whole situation was worse than Hunk was making it out to be. But Hunk was soft and warm and he just wanted to get the conversation over with, “Well, anyways, I wanted to spend more and more time with him; but then I'd snap out of it and it would be like I was looking at Anna with fresh eyes.”

“She'd be just so hot again. So, I always thought I was faking it or going through a phase. Or going nuts.” He bit his lip, bringing the pain from his chest to his mouth, “I didn't think it would happen again.” 

His voice was raspy with unshed tears, and hot emotions surging inside. It was everything he could do to keep from breaking down. Lance stiffened and then started to shake, "Oh God, Hunk, I said it. I said it out loud. Now it's real, I can't take it back!"

The arm around Lance tightened and a soft hand started smoothing out his hair. Lance was pressed firmly into Hunk's chest and he clutched at the other boy's shirt.

"What am I?" Lance whispered, an aching need to know pressed against his heart while cold fear sunk into his stomach. “What’s wrong with me?”

Hunk’s deep voice rumbled through the chest against Lance's cheek, "Nothing is wrong with you.” Hunk chastised. “You're Lance. You're a funny, dorky, cool guy who is fiercely loyal to his friends and a bit of a flirt. You're Lance and you'll always be Lance, _no matter who you like_."

Tears squeezed out from between his lashes as he pressed his lids shut trying to stop them from falling. "My mom can never know, it would kill her. She's expecting me to give her at least ten adorable grandchildren." Lance shook his head back and forth in Hunk's shirt leaving dark, wet spots.

"Well, grandchildren aren't up to the parents, y’know? Even if you marry a girl you might not have kids. The liking boys part doesn't matter there." Hunk tried to reason.

"Yeah, but you don’t understand. My mom’s _catholic_. Do you know what happened when Veronica got pregnant? My house was hell for a whole month. My mom was on a warpath. And Veronica is _straight_ with a _cute baby_. I’m just _me_.” Hunk tried to protest but Lance kept talking so Hunk let the comment slide. 

“She'd disown me, say I'm going to hell. Oh God, she might send me to Father Alvarez!" Lance gasped, "Or worse one of those make-'em-straight camps!" Lance was clutching onto Hunk’s shirt so hard his knuckles were white.

Hunk shushed him, tracing circles on Lance's back with his hand, "She's not going to do that. Your mom is the sweetest woman in the whole world, _and_ she loves you more than the whole world. Just because she acted like that with Veronica doesn’t mean she’ll act like that with you. _Plus_ , she’s calmed down a lot since then, right? Doesn’t your mom love her little Jimeno? You tell me all the time how she spoils him and Veronica."

"Well, yeah but that doesn’t mean she’ll calm down about me. You don't know her Hunk, you've never met her.”

"Yeah, well, you talk about her about as much as you talk about Keith, so I feel like I have."

Lance chuckled. It was small but it was real. The first burst of joy that dug its way out of his too-heavy chest.

"She might be shocked and take a while to process it or she might accept it right away, or she might already know. No matter what, I'm sure she'll realize that she loves you for you. But you don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready. Plus, you always have me!"

"I'm still not sure about anything right now, but thanks Hunk. For not being weird about this and for… everything."

"What are friends for if not to cry on?" Hunk made a show of wiping the rather large wet spot on his shirt.

Lance laughed at that, an actual full Lance laugh. He felt lighter than he had in years. He'd finally told somebody his dark secret. And that somebody had accepted him wholly.  
Lance wiped away the leftover tears out of his eyes. "My tears are magical, like unicorn tears. You should feel blessed to have them." he reached out to try and wipe them on Hunk’s face.

Hunk rolled his eyes, "Yeah, so blessed." He dodged Lance's tear-stained fingers and got up slowly, his knees popped as he moved. He walked over to his dresser, pulling off his shirt. He dug around until he found two shirts. He tugged one over his head and threw the other at Lance, "You're all smelly, take a shower and I'll make us some coming-out-tarts."

Lance made a show of being offended, "I’m not smelly!” He paused to sniff his armpit and pouted, “Not _that_ smelly. But the tarts better be strawberry or I'm going to bless you with my tears again."

Hunk rolled his eyes. "Just shower already!"

Lance laughed and went to do as he was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ミ☆ star children ミ★! This chapter really is from my heart. I pulled a lot from my own experiences with coming out to my friends here. I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Come be my friend on Tumblr [Yuzuling!](yuzuling.tumblr.com) I have no Voltron friends. Please come obsess with me!


	7. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mor Hunk and Lance skinship and being the best of friends.
> 
> Warning: Male pronouns for Pidge in first half during Garrison scenes, gender neutral pronouns for Pidge once they are in space.

"I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here is that the best pilot in your class had a discipline issue and flunked out. Don't follow in his footsteps."

Lance, Hunk, and Pidge shuffled out of the simulation room, heads lowered. Lance and Hunk went to Hunk's room and Pidge wandered off.

" _Don't follow in his footsteps._ " Lance mimicked in a high pitch voice. "How dare he? I'm a great pilot! He just doesn't get it!" Lance huffed.

Hunk hummed in agreement as he sorted through his collection of screws.

"We're the best team here, he just doesn't see it yet. I'm gonna make him see it."

Hunk continued fiddling with a rectangular box nodding in agreement at Lance's rant.

"That's it, we'll show him. Tonight we're going to bond like no team has ever bonded."

Hunk quirked an eyebrow, "And how are we going to do that?"

"C’mon, we're getting out of here, let's go find Pidge and head to town. We'll find some girls, eat some food; it'll be the best bonding experience of our lives! Then we’ll be the best team the Garrison has ever seen! Foolproof plan!" Lance stood up and stretched.

Hunk stuffed the contraption in his side pouch. "Fine, but we better not get caught; I am not getting detention again because of you."

"Don't worry about it, we'll be fine.” Lance led the way out of the room and down the hall to Pidge’s quarters. He stopped short when he saw the small boy leaving his room and looking for all the world to be trying to sneak away.

“Woah is that Pidge? Where is he going?" Lance whispered at Hunk who was trying to regain his balance after bumping into Lance.

Pidge rounded the corner running down the hall in the opposite direction.

"I dunno man, but he sure is in a hurry." Hunk peaked over Lance’s shoulder to watch Pidge try to be sneaky.

"Change of plans! Let's follow Pidge and see what he's up to!"

"Lance," Hunk whined, "Can't we just, talk to him normally? He's on our team you know."

"That's no fun Hunk, c’mon. Let's go before he gets away." Lance didn’t wait for Hunk to reply, he started slinking his away across the hall the same direction as Pidge.

As they round the corner, Lance pulled up short; Pidge was already gone. Cursing under his breath Lance turned to Hunk, “Lost him.”

Hunk shrugged, “I told you we should have just talked to him.”

Lance shook his head, “No way bro, we’re going to do this the legit way.”

“What even is that Lance?” Hunk moaned.

“The ninja way.” Lance finger gunned Hunk.

Hunk rolled his eyes, “Ok whatever, let’s just go this way and see if we can find him.” Hunk gestured widely in a random direction.

Lance and Hunk started looking for him in the general direction that they saw him run. It was twenty minutes before they found Pidge set up on the roof looking over the desert.

Lance snuck up behind Pidge and lifted up one side of his headphones whispering, "What are you doing here?"

Pidge jumped and screamed. Lance fell over laughing as Pidge shot a glare at Lance that would wilt a cactus.

Lance was only half-listening to the conversation they were having. Pidge was clearly crazy going on about this "Voltron" thing. Then everything happened so fast that Lance wasn't sure it was real. One second they were just a couple kids trying to sneak out of school for a good time then all of a sudden they were caught up in some hardcore alien conspiracy.

All in one day he had not only been reunited with his rival that didn't even remember him but also his hero; Shirogane himself. They all stood in some rickety cabin in the desert that Keith had been supposedly living in this whole time. Everyone was discussing what to do and Lance had to stop himself from looking too much at Keith. He hovered around Hunk and Pidge trying to keep the table in between him and his ex-rival. It was hard to do in such a cramped space but he managed it somehow.

By the time Lance was piloting an alien blue lion with his classmates, ex-rival, and personal hero in the cockpit he was sure that this was some elaborate dream. Once he had spent a week on an alien ship, who knew how far from earth, Lance finally realized it was real. Too real.

Maybe if he hadn't been so quick to chase after his rival. Maybe if he could have controlled his impulses a little better and thought it through first. Maybe, just maybe, he'd still be on earth with his family where he belonged. Where he was somebody. Somebody who wasn't a 7th wheel.

\--❤--

Around one Earth month into the Voltron mission Lance was really feeling the pressure to be an asset and not just an ass. He walked through the deck making his way to the training room, stopping short when the door slid open to reveal Keith. He looked like he’d already been there for hours, sweat soaking his black shirt.

"Stop training." Lance yelled. The bot stopped short mid swing throwing Keith off kilter.

Keith wheeled around glaring at Lance, "What the hell did you do that for?"

Lance smirked, "It's my turn to use the training room."

Keith shot a glare at Lance before turning back to the bot, "Starting training." Keith stepped to the side of the bot's sword as it completed its previous movement. He caught the bot’s weapon on his sword, pushing hard into the hologram.

"End training program." Lance yelled and the bot fizzled away making Keith stumble forward.

A sound of annoyed exasperation was the only warning before Keith rounded on Lance, fire in his eyes. "Seriously Lance what's your dysfunction?"

"People who hog the training room every day, obviously." Lance shot back.

"I don't hog the training room." Keith crossed his arms.

"You do, and you're not just in here every day. You come here in the morning, after lunch, after dinner, and even sometimes in the middle of the night. A paladin can't get any training done with how much you hog this place." Lance stalked forward trying to make himself bigger. His intricate knowledge of Keith’s activities didn’t mean anything, _everyone_ knew Keith monopolized the training room, Lance told himself.

Keith tapped his foot impatiently, "The only one complaining is you, but if you want the room that bad then it's yours. Start training protocol level 1." Keith yelled as he pushed pass Lance, shoulder checking him on the way out.

Lance guffawed and turned to follow, ready to have it out, but the bot wacked him from behind. It hit all the air out of his lungs and he was left gasping and alone with the bot.

\--❤--

Lance sulked to his room. He'd made it up to Level 3 before shutting the bot off in defeat. This was not like their training sessions back at the Garrison where he could just watch Keith workout from across the gym. Keith was - well, they all were - more uptight in space. Tempers ran higher and patience ran short. They were a team, but just barely. Shiro was the only thing holding them together. Lance sighed and looked up, somehow he'd ended up in front of Keith's door instead of his own. 

_Stupid brain.Can't you do anything right?_ he scolded himself.

He shook his head and looked down the hall toward Hunk's room. At least he had his best friend here.

Lance bearily knocked on Hunk's door before it slid open.

"Hey bro, what's up?" Hunk said as he looked up from the disassembled object on his bed.

"I did it again." Lance sighed and leaned against the wall.

"Lance." Hunk chided.

"I know, I know. I just can't help it."

"You know some people actually find arguing offensive and off-putting right?"

"It's just… I see his face and I don't know what to say. Arguing is easy. Other stuff is hard." He leaned against the wall and his back thunked hard against the metal.

Hunk nodded, "It's not easy, but you're stuck in space with only 4 other humans within light years, so try to at least get along with them."

Lance rubbed his face. "I know, trust me, I know."

"Do you though? You're alienating him, man. And I don't mean that as a space pun."

Lance gave a weak laugh, "I don't mean to."

"I know that, you know that, but he doesn't know that. Probably thinks you hate him." Hunk gave him a long-suffering look.

"I do! I hate how his face gets pointy when he concentrates, I hate how he seems to talk to everyone except me, and I hate how he's closer to Shiro when he's supposed to be _my_ rival. I hate all of it." Lance waved his arms around as if the reasons were standing in front of him.

Hunk pat the spot next to him, a sad smile on his face.

Lance bit his lip, he didn’t feel like getting a hug and if he sat next to Hunk there would be no polite way to say no. Instead, he stumbled forward and knelt down on the floor, resting his head by Hunk's thigh. "I don't even know what I think. What’s the point of even having this crush? I should just find a nice alien girlfriend and forget about everything."

"Maybe you should." Hunk nodded as he petted Lance's hair. This amount of contact wasn’t so bad, Hunks fingers felt nice.

Lance looked up shocked at Hunk, "But you were so for this - this - me being gay thing."

"You're not gay, at least you’re not _just_ gay Lance. That's why I think maybe you should see if you like any alien girls." Hunk stopped running his fingers through the other boy’s hair and just left his hand hovering over the short chocolate locks.

"I did, there was that one we met with the orange freckles but she shot me down." Lance defended himself.

"I know you're not really trying. I can tell it's a show." Hunk leaned back, his voice going harsh.

Lance closed his eyes and stopped himself from nuzzling his head back into Hunk’s giant palm, "You don't know that, you don't know anything about anything." Lance buried his face into Hunks sheets instead, muffling his further protests.

"Sure I don't. I don't know that _you_ know that you’re over the top flirting doesn't get you anywhere because you don't want it to. I don't know that when you really try to flirt you don't know what to do so you just argue. I don't know that you've been obsessing over Keith for months and you get anxious when he doesn't show you the time of day. I don't know that you muph..." Lance shot up on his knees and shoved his hand over Hunk's mouth to muffle him.

" _Okay_ , Okay, I get it. Sheesh man." Lance slumped back down twisting so that his back was resting on the bed, he looked up at Hunk. "But what do I _do_ about it?"

Hunk shrugged, "Get over it?"

"Yeah, get over it. Thanks for the deep insight buddy." Lance rolled his eyes.

"Or confess." Hunk shot him a look.

"Are you crazy? I'm sure I've made him hate me more than he hates the Galra by now." Lance hit Hunk’s thigh with the back of his hand for emphasis.

"He doesn't hate you." Hunk scolded.

Lance gave him a pointed look.

"He might a little hate you.” Hunk conceded, “But that's because you're hiding yourself. If you acted the way you act with me he'd realize what a great dude you are."

"Aw, you think I'm a great dude?" Lance’s lips curled up into a soft smile as he looked up through his bangs at Hunk.

"You know I do." Hunk shoved his head away playfully.

Lance’s smile turned a little sad, "At least someone does. I don't even think Pidge likes me anymore if they ever did."

"Don't be so harsh on yourself. This transition, being stuck a million miles from Earth, we're all dealing with it in our own ways. Even me." It dawned on Lance then why Hunk’s bed was full of disassembled tech.

He’d been so full of himself that he hadn’t even realized how stressed his friend was. "Is that the reason for the mess?"

Hunk sighed, "Maybe if I can pull this Altean thingamajig apart and put it back together, then maybe, just maybe, we can win this war and go home.” Hunk's smile didn't reach his eyes. “I know it doesn’t make sense, it’s stupid."

Lance couldn’t handle it when one of his friends was sad, especially not his best friend for life. Lance scrambled onto the bed, "It’s not stupid, not at all.” Lance placed a soft hand his shoulder, “We can totally fix this buddy and then we’ll win this intergalactic space war. Once we do, maybe I can finally come out to my mom and you can find a nice girl and settle down and we'll all live together with your 50 children, you'll have to have some for me of course. My mom would hear of nothing less."

Hunk laughed, smile returning to his eyes, "Well first step is to find the piece that goes here."

Lance picked up a small L-shaped-tab-thing and handed it to Hunk, "Maybe this one?" Lance laughed at himself.

Hunk tried it and it slid right in, "Not bad, it's almost like you're really smart and don't know it."

"Dumb luck." Lance shrugged and stood up stretching, "I'm going to head to bed, see you for goo-stuff in the morning?

"Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late! I'm graduating in 4 days and moving to Austin in 7 so I'm kind of panicking. 
> 
> Good news is I like to hide from my problems by drowning myself in Voltron so I've written another whole fic that is getting beta'd now. I'm going to release it as a one shot even though it's like 13,000 words, so please look forward to its release! It's all fluff and cute HS AU :3
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr [Yuzuling!](yuzuling.tumblr.com) I need someone to obsess over Voltron with! I'm lit begging for friends  
> .・゜゜・（／。＼）・゜゜・．


	8. Foreign Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Klance is starting! ヽ( ゜∇ ゜)ノ . Please enjoy the result of my blood sweat and tears!

Lance spent the next couple of days really thinking about Voltron, their situation, and the fact that he only knew four humans. Somehow what Hunk said wouldn't leave his brain. It kept repeating over and over in his head, no matter what they were doing.

His flirting with Allura was kicked up to a thousand. It was at the point that Lance was sick of himself, but it was the attention and reaction he craved and he couldn’t stop. That surge of adrenalin when someone had their whole focus on only him fueled his antics. His fights with Keith became more intense. Hunk was giving him long suffering looks in public and lectures in private almost every day now. He was sure that even Hunk was getting sick of the way he was acting.

He was spiraling, and he knew it. He needed to stop the pattern, to stop using this shielded persona of himself before the only humans in his life hated him for good. But Lance didn't know how. He wasn't confident that anyone would like the _real_ him. Hunk did of course, but Hunk loved everyone. He was Hunk.

All of it finally crashed down around him after a mission to rescue Slav. He realize just how deep into this war he was, and just how useless his teammates found him. He’d trained for hours afterwards and now he was exhausted and sweaty. Laying on the cool metal floor, he let the chill sooth his flushed skin. 

He watched as the stars slowly drifted by, their order chaotic and foreign. Staring up at the viewfinder and looking at the emptiness of space only made him feel more alone and isolated. The familiar pattern of Earth’s constellations were nowhere to be seen, replaced by a foreign alignment of stars. More proof of how far away he really was.

Lance thought about his family, his friends, and the life he would never have. His youth spent fighting someone else's war instead of partying and drinking and kissing in bedrooms that weren't his.

He imagined how he probably broke his mother's heart, his whole family's heart. What did they think of him now. Where they still looking for him? Had they given up? He could see it now - coming home from the war, coming home to his own grave. His family having moved on with their lives, living happily. The dead should not visit the living.

And he cried.

Fat tears rolled down his face and his chest pressed heavily against his heart. He gasped between sobs as the tears pooled into his ears. Black emptiness filled his vision and swallowed him until all he could see was darkness. Long fingers grasped at the smooth floor trying to find purchase as he drown in the vacuum of his thoughts. 

_Woosh_

Lance held his breath at the sudden sound. Someone took a step in, and then stopped. Of course it happened while he was a blubbering mess and it was probably his own fault for falling apart in a public space. He should have been decent, like everyone else, and broke down in the privacy of his own room. But it was too late now, seemed like everything was too late. So why should this moment be any different?

He placed his arm over his eyes to hide his tears but his sobs were thundering in the silent room. There was no hiding. He could hear feet shuffle around as if they were unsure where they were going.

 _Just leave me alone. Please, please, just leave me here. Pretend this never happened and go away._ Even as his brain silently pleaded with the unknown figure, his heart ached hoping that whoever it was might care enough to stay.

After a moment’s hesitation the footsteps got closer and he could feel a warm body sink down next to him. Maybe he got lucky and it was Hunk, but Hunk would have said something, right?

He took a quick peek out from under his arm.

_Keith._

Of all the people it could have been, it had to be _Keith_. He gasped but it came out as a kind of hiccup. Keith was sitting down with his knees drawn into his chest looking out at the stars. Lance waited for something to happen. Waited for Keith to make fun of him or to chastise him, but nothing came. Lance's sobs slowly turned into silent tears and finally into the occasional hiccup. Still, Keith just sat there looking at the stars through the viewfinder in silence. Lance rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

He felt the need to explain himself, some sort of excuse so that his fellow paladin wouldn’t think less of him. “I was looking for Orian, but the stars are all wrong.”

Keith tilted his head, still watching the stars in their haphazard pattern flecked across the inky expanse of sky. He nodded, “Why Orian?” It was a simple question and it felt light in the heavy atmosphere of the room.

Lance couldn’t stop the words from falling out of his lips. “I’ve always looked for Orion when I was away from my family, because, if I could find Orion I knew that at least we could look at the same stars, but I have no idea where it is now. There’s no connection to them anymore. It’s gone.” A sniffle leaked out. Why was Keith here and why was he listening to him ramble about stars?

“For me, it’s Ursa Major.”

Lance blinked up through his wet lashes, “What?”

“When I’m feeling down I like to find Ursa Major and the North Star and think about how if I can find them, I’ll never be truly lost.”

“That’s, actually really cool.” Lance confessed. 

Keith snorted, “Insecurity isn’t cool.”

"In that case, you must think I'm pathetic." Lance grumbled, his voice was scratchy and too loud in his ears.

Keith didn't look down at him, he just shrugged his shoulders, "You’re not pathetic, everyone cries.”

Lance scoffed, "You don't. You're Mr. Perfect, Mr. Top-of-the-Class, Mr. Pilot-of-the-too-Picky-Lion." 

He was trying to start a fight, trying to lead them back into familiar territory. Lance waited for Keith to snap back at him, but none came. They sat in silence for a while before Keith sighed. Lance peaked up curiously at the other boy. His face was illuminated by the dim white emergency lights and Lance could make out the line of his jaw. He didn't look mad like Lance had hoped, but his brow was furrowed as if in concentration.

"You're wrong." Keith kept his eyes fixed ahead, much to Lance's annoyance. "Of course I cry."

Lance froze a little. Keith -- hard, strong, annoying Keith -- was admitting a weakness. To _Lance_ no less. Lance must have cried himself into an alternate dimension.

Keith sucked in a breath and let out a sigh, "It's hard, being in Voltron. Being away from Earth. It's hard for everyone, including me."

Lance couldn't stop himself, curiosity gnawing at him now that Keith was opening up, "Did you have someone? On Earth I mean. Someone you cared about? Family?" 

Keith nodded, finally looking down at Lance and leaning back on his hands, "I didn't really have much of a family, and I didn't have many friends but there are... people. People I miss. My foster family was always really nice to me, they helped me get into the Garrison."

Lance bit down on his lip. He didn't know Keith was a foster kid, he felt bad about wanting to talk about his own family. Maybe he was being selfish about this whole thing. Of course, Lance already knew he wasn't special. Everyone was suffering. Heck, Allura's entire planet was destroyed, and here Lance was crying about his family that was safe and sound on Earth, far away from this war.

"Do you?" Keith lifted an eyebrow.

"Do I what?" Lance wasn't sure if he missed part of the conversation while he was lost in thought.

"Do you have someone you miss? Family?" Keith shot the question back.

Lance smiled, a sad longing filled his eyes, "Yeah. Too much family maybe." He laughed bitterly. "My mom and dad, brothers and sisters, their kids, my abuela..." He trailed off. "Lots of family." He concluded.

Keith nodded, "You can talk about them, if you want. I don't mind. I like hearing about other people's families. It's...nice."

Lance shrugged and shook his head, "I don't think I can talk about them without breaking down again."

"Have you?" Keith lifted a thick eyebrow in his direction.

Lance was having trouble following Keith's train of thought, it felt like his questions just came out of nowhere, "Have I what?"

"Talked about them? Cried about them? Mourned their loss?" Keith's voice was so matter of fact it was unnerving.

Lance drew his eyebrows down trying to form the right words for what he was feeling, "I try not to think too much about them. Voltron doesn't need a Paladin that alone in the dark on the floor." Lance tried to laugh, but it only resulted in Keith glaring at him. Lance coughed to hide his embarrassment.

Keith sighed, "You know, I had to go through counseling as a foster kid. They told me that you have to mourn to function in the other parts of your life, the mundane parts. There isn't ever getting over it, the loss. But if you let yourself be sad and cry you can also let yourself be happy."

Lance's jaw hung open; what was happening? Now he was sure this was an alternate dimension. Maybe his tears really were magic. He composed himself enough to mutter out a, "Yeah I guess."

Keith sighed. "We're a team and we're stuck together, surrounded by aliens caught up in their millennia war. So..." Keith paused and then his words tumbled out a bit too fast, "If you need to talk to someone, I can listen."

Lance stared up at Keith, face contorted as he was thinking. Keith's words echoed the ones Hunk had told him. His heart pounded in his ears and he felt a little too hot. His brain kept screaming as it analyzed with Keith had said. He was wrong about his assumption, he was sure he was wrong. His ears were just playing tricks on him and putting a kindness in Keith's offer that wasn't really there. A question rolled around his his head, pressing on him, until finally he let it out, "Are you offering to be friends?"

Lance thought he saw a small smile creep across Keith's face, "Maybe. We can be, if you stop being so damn competitive all the time."

 _Oh_ thought Lance. He smirked feeling lighter than he had in months, "You wish."

"Yeah I kinda do." Keith whispered.

Lance wasn't quite sure if he'd heard right and was extra sure he had no clue how to reply to it. So instead he just shot Keith one of his shit eating grins.

A smile broke out across Keith's face and lit up his eyes. Keith laughed. It was quiet and soft but it was totally a laugh. He was really, truly laughing with Lance for the first time since they'd known each other. Lance's breath hitched and his smile turned awkward. All his feelings from his days of stalking Keith and crushing on him rushed back like a wave breaking on the shore.

"We should go to bed." Lance needed to get away, put some distance between himself and this new, strange, nice Keith. This open, bright eyed, comforting Keith.

Keith’s smile stayed on his face as he nodded. He pushed himself up to standing and then turned to face Lance. Something unreadable flashed in Keith's eyes and then he was holding his hand down toward Lance offering him a boost up. Lance hesitated, his hand stopped right before he touched Keith's bare hand. With a breath he grasped it and was pulled up onto his feet. 

Keith was strong and Lance didn't weigh much. The momentum caused Lance to stumble forward a bit, his free hand reaching out to stabilize himself. It caught onto the only thing in front of him, Keith. When he recovered his balance, he was standing nose to nose with the pilot of the red lion. Lance was thankful for the dark room and his tan skin as he felt a blush heat up his face and crawl to the tips of his ears.

Keith's eyes were wide and so close that Lance could see flecks of purple in the dark irises. He felt a silly rush of pride that he'd been right about those strange eyes' purple hue. 

They stood there in shock, hands clasped. Lance felt Keith’s body heat through his black shirt. His fingers brushed against a solid plane of chest that steadily rose and fell beneath the thin black material. His breath tickled Lance’s lips. Blue eyes flicked down to the source. They were dusky pink and plump, as if they had just been kissed.

 _He wanted to kiss them._ Lance's eyes snapped back up to Keith's.

 _Too close. Way too close,_ his mind screamed at him. Lance jumped back, almost pushing Keith away in his haste.

He threw on a grin. "Thanks buddy. I'll see you around. Well, I always see you. Not always _always._ I mean, cause we're stuck in space together.” He slowly backed away, his heart pounding in his ears. “In the same space castle and all. I just...I mean... Good Night!" He turned to run out before he could make himself look more foolish, the doors sliding shut behind him.

Lance was shaking as he ran down the hall, "What was that?! Stupid, stupid, _comemierda_." he chastised himself.

Keith stood in the now empty room looking at the closed doors and then down at his hand, the stars blinking coldly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti* They had a _bonding moment_ , now they just need to get together :3
> 
> I google all my Spanish so I'm sorry if it's not good. Spanish translation: Stupid, the donkey knows more than you
> 
> Sorry for the late post, especially since I was so excited about this chapter!
> 
> I graduated then moved to Austin and I've been unpacking since the move. It's so nice here I love it! But I got behind in my updates. OTL Forgive me to the five people who are reading this! I love you so much, please keep reading my lame fic that I work so hard on! I hope you guys are still enjoying this. 
> 
> Please come stalk me! [Yuzuling!](http://yuzuling.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My HS AU is almost ready to post. It took way longer to edit than it did to write but I feel like I'm almost done tweaking it. Please look forward to it!!!


	9. The Cake is a Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake--

That morning at breakfast Keith was suspiciously missing. Lance tried to look natural and not like he was searching for the only missing person at the table. 

Hunk leaned over, “I walked by the training room and it sounds like he's still in there.”

Lance groaned, “Am I that obvious?”

“To me? Yes. To everyone else? Not really.” Hunk smiled down at Lance and winked.

“Thanks, buddy.” Lance smiled at his friend.

“What happened?” Hunk kept his voice low as he leaned toward Lance holding his hand up to cover his mouth from the other paladins at the table.

Lance rolled his eyes back in his head and groaned, “I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s too embarrassing.” 

Hunk smiled, “We’ll talk about it later,” he looked pointedly at the others, “in private, okay my dude?”

“Yeah, Let’s do that.” Lance bumped Hunk with his shoulder, “You’re the best.”

“I know!” Hunk preened at the compliment.

Lance pat his belly and pushed away from the table, speaking loudly, “Oh man this stuff is just on point today, Hunk my man, I don’t know how you do it! Gosh, I’m so stuffed!” 

“Gosh?” Pidge mocked and quirked an eyebrow at Lance.

“Yes,” quirked his head toward Shiro, smirking. “There are _children_ present.” 

Pidge hid their smile behind a fist and snorted. 

Lance winked. “I’m gonna go to my room and contemplate how good Hunk’s cooking is.” 

“You do you.” Pidge shrugged, schooping in another mouthful of cooked goo.

Lance made his way to the training room, not sure what he would do when he got there. He peeked his head around the corner of the door. He wanted to scope it out and make sure he would be alone.

To his dismay Keith was practicing with the training bot. Sharp, smooth movements showed off his natural graceful as he spared. His hair was pressed wetly to his neck right above his black undershirt that clung to his muscles as he moved. 

Lance couldn’t stop watching. 

It was too much, he quickly ducked away before Keith could notice him and ran to his room to pretend nothing happened. 

________________________________________

Lance was determined to talk to Hunk about what happened but everytime he tried to corner the other boy something would happen. Galra attacks, food goo disasters, castle repairs, it seemed like there wasn't a spare moment for them to have a conversation. 

It got to the point that Lance hadn't talked with Hunk for a whole week. He desperately missed their face mask nights and slumber party banter. Lance was getting frustrated, he knew they all had responsibilities as Paladins but Hunk was supposed to be his _best friend_ , they were _soulmates_ god damn it. 

Lance sulked in the lounge, kicking his feet up on the back of the couch and hanging his head off the seat cushion. His brain happily supplied all the reasons Hunk wouldn't want to hang out with him anymore. Most of them were because Hunk had replaced Lance with Pidge, opting for someone that was more on his level of genius. He was spending more and more time with Pidge, and why shouldn’t he? Lance couldn’t keep up with their technobabble, so even if all three of them did hang out, it always ended up like Lance wasn’t there. 

Lance let out a frustrated sound. He was bored. He kicked his legs up and behind his head doing a kip-up off the couch. Keith had told him he could talk to him, but was that only if Lance was crying or did it extend to times like this? _Are we friends_ echoed in his head. The open invitation hadn't been used, heck he hadn't really even seen Keith since they talked. Lance had successfully avoided the raven-haired boy for weeks. 

He was nervous, but the boredom was winning. He started pacing the floor, trying to syke himself up to do it. All it would take a is a casual _hello_ and maybe just an _are you free_ and that's it. But Lance didn't trust his mouth not to run off without him. So he practiced those simple lines over and over. Imagined Keith's responses and tried to come up with things to say back. 

"You're going to wear a hole in the ship."

_Oh shit_. All his hard work, all his planning! Keith went and ruined it. Now what was he supposed to do? He inhaled, "Hey Keith, is you be free?" Lance blurted out. He mentally slapped himself, that was backwards wasn't it? "I mean, are..are you free?"

"Um, yes?" Keith quirked a thick eyebrow in question.

"Is that a question or an answer?" Lance huffed. _That Night_ loomed in the back of his mind and made him more nervous. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He hadn't stopped moving since he’d started pacing. 

"I was just going to grab a snack." Keith said.

"Cool. I'll join you." Lance shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking to the kitchens. Keith fell in step beside him.

Lance couldn't handle the silence, "So, what's up?"

Keith’s mouth lifted slightly in one corner, "Getting food?" Lance cringed.

"Yeah that food goo. It's really... green.” Lance shot two finger guns at Keith, “Like Pidge!" Lance babbled, "I bet that's why they eat so much of it. They have a connection." This was going horribly. Why couldn't he have a conversation like the one he had practiced in his head, he was _so_ smooth there.

Keith nodded and seemed to actually be thinking about if Pidge and food goo had some sort of connection. "I don't think that's it, I think they dislike it as much as I do. Hunk is the only one that can make that stuff even slightly edible."

_Hunk._ Now _there_ was a topic that Lance could talk about without sounding bat shit. "Yeah Hunk is really the best. He used to sneak me food in the Garrison. You probably don't remember but that day we had detention together he made me a whole cake to cheer me up."

"I remember." Keith shrugged.

"You what?" Lance’s eyebrows shot to his forehead and his eyes grew wide, the whites showing clearly.

"I remember having detention together. I remember you." Keith didn’t meet his eyes.

"You remember me? But you said when we saved Shiro..." Lance trailed off without finishing his sentence. 

"I didn't then. I was too focused on Shiro, but after everything settled down,” He shrugged. “I remembered." Keith opened the fridge and looked for anything that Hunk might have set aside for later.

"Oh." it came out as more of a puff of air then a word, "Yeah, cool." Lance cleared his throat, What was he talking about? Hunk, he was talking about Hunk. "Can you believe that he tried to keep that cake hostage from me? Made me apologize to you or else he wouldn't give me any."

Keith looked up over the fridge door, "You talked to him about me?"

Lance smile wavered. Why did Keith always ask the wrong questions? Well he couldn't deny it now, "Uh yeah, I don't really remember what I said, I was just complaining about you and detention. Then he told me I had to tell you sorry or I didn't get any cake. And Keith, _Keith_ ,” Lance held his fingers up in an 'okay' shape trying to emulate the meme, “one does not simply deny themselves Hunk's cake. The cost of my pride is one slice of Hunk's lemon cake." He laughed at his own joke.

Keith smiled, it was almost identical to _That Night_ , "Yeah I'd probably kill for a slice right now, no pride."

"Well..." Lance looked around the kitchen at all the alien food, "I'm not as good as Hunk but he taught me how to make it. We could try and see what kind of alien catastrophe we create."

Keith grinned, actually _smilled_ at him conspiratorially, "There is nothing in the fridge anyways, I'm down."

Lance wasn’t sure how Hunk figured out which alien ingredient was equivalent to earth ingredients but he wasn’t really expecting to make anything eatable anyways. So he rolled up his sleeves and pulled a bobby pin from his pocket pinning back his bangs from his face. 

“You have hair clips?” Keith looked at him skeptically.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Hair in food is disgusting.”

Keith huffed, “I mean how… _why_ do you even have them at all?”

Lance shrugged, “I a sister, they just end up all around the house, or they did, I mean I’m sure they still do. I took to carrying them around because you never know when you’ll need one.” He looked down at his hands and played with his nails, picking out invisible dirt. This was getting uncomfortable. He needed Keith to stop looking at him so intensely. 

Keith nodded, “Do you have extras? My bangs are getting in my eyes and Shiro has been too busy to cut them.”

Lance looked up from his fiddling, jaw dropped just slightly. It took a moment before he snapped out of it and realized he hadn’t replied, “Oh yeah sure,” he dug into his pocket and pulled out two more, “Apparently I had like, ten, on me when I left earth, I swear on Blue that they breed.” He held out his hand with the two bobby pins resting on his palm.

Keith reached out trying to pick them up without touching Lance’s palm. He failed. The tips of his fingers grazed the warm skin of the other boy and he pulled back his hand a little too quickly to be casual.

Keith pushed one of them into his bangs. He watched cross eyed as it flopped forward into his eyes, bobby pin hanging in front of his face loosely. He glared at and growled, “Stupid thing.” Keith tried pulling the pin out of his hair and winced as it took his hair with it.

Lance laughed. “You gotta get the hair under it too, here let me do it. I do it for my sister all the time.”

Lance reached out and took the leftover pin from Keith’s hand and stuck it in his mouth. He then stepped close to Keith’s face, eyes level with the other boy’s bangs. He deftly stuck his fingernail between the two prongs of the pin, opening it up and gently sliding it out of the silky strands. Keith’s hair was thicker than Lance’s and glossy. It was similar to his little sister’s who got her hair from their dad. Lance was envious. His own hair was thin with a slight wave and he hated it. He’d probably grow his hair out too if it was as nice as Keith’s. 

“You're too tall, sit down on the stool so I can get the top of your head.” he spoke around the pin in his mouth. Keith complied, setting himself down on a stool by the sink.

Lance took his pinkies and gathered the bangs together in a clump toward the middle of Keith’s forehead, fingernails grazing the skin underneath. Keith was hyper aware of every movement Lance’s long fingers made. He couldn’t remember anyone ever touching him so gently. Keith cursed the goosebumps that prickling out on his forearms, giving him away. 

Lance spun the bangs around his finger, spiraling them into one strand, then flipped them back to the top of Keith’s head. He pinned the bobby pins in an X, creating a small pompadour. Lance leaned in close, inspecting his work. Blue eyes filled all of Keith’s vision. Keith could smell him from this distance. Lance smelled crisp and clean like one of those fresh laundry scented candles Shiro sometimes bought for their bathroom. 

“That should,” it came out as a coarse whisper, Lance cleared his throat to try again, “That should do it.” He stepped back putting distance between them, “Ready to bake?” He grinned.

Keith nodded and slipped off the stool, faint blush on his cheeks. They both rummaged around the kitchen to find anything that looked like eggs, flour, sugar, butter, or fruit. 

Keith found something that resembled oil and a couple different fruits. Lance found some powder that he hoped was like flour and one giant egg might have belonged to an ostrich if they were on Earth. Sugar though, seemed to be missing. 

“We could just put extra fruit in it, I guess? Or the space juice? Maybe that’ll make it sweet.” Lance mused rubbing his chin with a thin finger.

Keith nodded, “Sounds good to me, I don’t even know.”

They got to work. Lance gave instructions as best as he could remember, especially without measuring cups. Or Hunk.

Eventually they had a batter that was slightly pink. With a sense of accomplishment, the wannabe cake was shoved into the oven.

“Well it should be around 20 or 30 minutes or dobashes or whatever.” Lance said with a flourish as he shut the oven door.

“Cool.” Keith shifted from foot to foot.

Lance took in Keith’s uncomfortable posture and offered him a way out, “You don’t have to hang around, I’ll watch it and text you when it’s done.”

“Oh, okay.” Lance was supposed to be annoying and a thorn in his side. So why did Keith feel a shot of disappointment in being dismissed? He got up and left with a, “Yeah, just don’t burn it.”

“Burning things is your job.” Lance shouted at his back.

About twenty seven minutes later Lance figured the cake was about as done as it was going to get. He grabbed a towel to pull the hot pan out of the oven. Lance walked the cake over to the fridge to cool. The faster it cooled the faster he could call Keith back.

He opened the fridge door and there in the middle of the shelf was a platter of what might have been the equivalent to pigs in a blanket with a note from Hunk that said ‘Help yourself’. Lance paused.

_Keith lied to me._

There was no reason for Keith to spend an hour making a cake with him, a cake that probably tasted like crap. Why did he do that? Lance set the cake down on the shelf under the pigs in a blanket and shut the fridge door.

He pulled out his phone and opened up the texting app Pidge had made them, tapping on _The Space Mullet_. He hesitated, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard. 

Lance started to type, _why did you make a cake with me if there was food in_ , he deleted it and started over. _Cake is done but there are also hot dogs or something to eat_ he deleted it again. _Cake is in the fridge, come and get some._ he hit send.

Lance sprinted from the kitchen. He ran to his room, taking the long way around to be sure and avoid Keith.

Keith walked into the kitchen expecting Lance to be there but found it empty. He checked his phone again to double check that Lance’d said the cake was done. Confused, he walked to the fridge and opened the door. The pink-tinged cake was sitting on the bottom shelf, it was flat and slightly translucent and didn’t look much like a cake at all. He pulled it out, pinching off a gooey bite. Licking it tentatively, he cringed. It tasted like toothpaste after drinking orange juice. Maybe they should have tasted the fruit before they used it. He placed the cake back in the fridge and grabbed one of Hunk’s pigs in a blanket. There was no point in eating a terrible cake by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and post the last two in the next two days to wrap up this fic!!!
> 
> Thank you to [Kelpiehunterkai](http://kelpiehunterkai.tumblr.com/) for the just PERFECT artwork for this fic.
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](http://yuzuling.tumblr.com/)


	10. Maybe the Cake was a Metaphor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baking a pretty cake isn't as easy as it seems, and neither is discovering who you are.

There was no helping it, Lance _had_ to talk to Hunk. He tried to control his jealousy, Hunk drifting away cut him to the quick, but Pidge was a better person than him. He was _happy_ Hunk found an equal. He was. It wasn’t Hunk’s fault that Lance felt unsure of his footing around him these days. It wasn’t Hunk’s fault that Lance didn’t have any other friends that knew about his unnamed sexuality, or his crush. 

If only there there was a way to get Hunk _alone_. Missions were piling up on top of missions and there was no time to rest. The few hours of sleep they were getting was a luxury in and of itself. Now was a rare and coveted time of silence and stillness before the castle alarms blared announcing the Galra were on them once again.

Lance sighed, cupping his chin in a smooth palm, everyone was on edge and that meant his personal problems would stay just that, personal. No one had any time in between attacks for the sappy emotional shit he was going through. He needed to suck it up. He was a defender of the universe now, pilot of the blue lion. Lance was _somebody_ and people relied on him, so all he needed to do was keep his emotions under control. 

\---

Lance was a mess. 

He pulled his helmet off as he jumped down from his lion. They hadn’t been able to form Voltron and it was all his fault. Everyone knew it. He was too distracted, too much inside his own head, and it had cost the whole team. They had to fight in their individual lions and now they were battered, bruised, and barely alive. 

He watched dully as Hunk and Shiro carried Pidge to the healing pod. His emotions were a curse, his lack of control being the reason Pidge got hurt. Lance shook his head. There was no other choice, he’d talk to Hunk and sort through the mayhem in his head once and for all. Or else he’d step down as a Paladin of Voltron.

He turned to head toward his room, mind made up.

\---

Lance waited until everyone settled in for the night before sneaking off to Hunk’s room. He paced in front of the door, wringing his hands together, trying to psych himself up. Hunk was his _friend_ and friends were supposed to be there for each other. That meant Hunk wouldn’t mind the late night intrusion. Right?

Lance slapped his cheeks in quick succession. _You can do this Lancey Lance_. He spun on his heel and lifted his fist, poised in front of the door, unmoving. 

Taking in a deep breath, he knocked.

“Come in” Hunk called from the other side and the door slid open.

Lance sighed in relief at Hunk’s upbeat tone before stepping in to find Pidge and Hunk bent over Rover, wires sticking out in different directions hooked up to Pidge’s laptop. Pidge looked tired but better. _The healing pod really is a deus ex machina,_ he mused. 

Lance pushed away his insecurities at seeing Pidge nestled on Hunk’s bed and steeled his resolve, “Hey Hunk can we talk?”

“Sorry Lance, we’re programing Rover to be able to turn Galra bots over to our side, and we’ve almost got it cracked.” Pidge answered for Hunk, lolling their head to look at Lance through slitted eyes. 

Lance cringed at the accusation that nestled itself on Paige's face. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “I know this is really important,” he shuffled his foot in the doorway, ”But _Mr. Snuffles needs a nap._ ”

“Mr. Who? What?” Pidge wrinkled a small nose and quirked the side of their mouth as they turned to Hunk in confusion. 

Hunk immediately nodded, recognizing the code for we need to talk _alone_. “Oh. Okay,” He turned to Pidge and smiled apologetically, “Let’s finish this up later.” 

Pidge looked between the two of them and held up their hands, “I don’t get it and I don’t want to. You guys can be freaks together.” They got up to leave but stopped next to Lance. “Just don’t take too long, we need Rover recalibrated before the next mission. Since _someone_ can’t do their job.” They walked out of the room, brushing past him without looking back.

Lance winced and curled in on himself, trying to become as small as possible in the doorway.

“So what’s the emergency?” Hunk asked as soon as Pidge left, motioning for Lance to enter.

He looked up at Hunk and back in the direction Pidge’d disappeared before finally slumping into the room. “I dunno man.” Lance slid down to the floor, riding the wall with his back. He sat in the corner between the bed and doorway, cramming himself into the smallest space possible. He didn’t deserve more than this small alcove. “It’s just…” Lance trailed off, eyes cast down.

“You can tell me, man. I’m here to listen.” Hunk was all patience and soft words.

Lance sighed, it was now or never, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for weeks and you always seem busy with Pidge. I feel like we aren’t even friends, like I’ve been replaced.” He confessed, biting the tip of his thumbnail. “Then there’s Keith who’s treating me all hot and cold so I don’t even know where I stand there. You and Pidge have each other, Shiro and Keith have each other, Allura and Coran have each other, and I’m just the leftovers.” As Lance was talking he slumped further and further in on himself until he was completely bent over his knees, head in his arms, and voice slightly muffled. Hunk had to shift closer to hear everything Lance was saying.

The Yellow Paladin put his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his hands, “God man, I didn’t know you were feeling like that. You know you’ll always be my bestie, it’s just that Pidge and I gotta do all this tech stuff for these missions, so it’s eating up all my time. But I didn’t replace you with Pidge. I’d never do that.”

“Yeah, I know, but it feels like it.” Lance said into the crook of his arm. 

Hunk sighed and leaned back on his hands, “We got the fate of the universe on our shoulders, now, I can’t help that it takes up my free time.”

“Yeah..I know...” Lance trailed off.

“Look, you can still come and talk to me, I’m still here for you. It just might not be as often as it was back on Earth, you know?” Hunk shrugged.

Lance squeezed his eyes shut holding back tears, “Yeah I know.” 

“You wanna tell me what’s been going on?” Hunk pouted at the repetitive answers he was receiving.

“It’s just,” Lance pulled up his hood curling into himself tighter, “I never got a chance to come out on Earth, and now, I don’t know if I can handle the rest of the team knowing I’m…” Lance trailed off.

“That you like boys the way you like girls?” Hunk offered.

Lance groaned hugging his knees into his chest, “Yeah, that. They all expect happy-go-lucky-overconfident-womanizer-Lance. Not, actual-me-Lance.”

“Well you kinda did that to yourself.” Hunk said dully, the words cutting into Lance’s heart.

Lance pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, tears squeezed out of his eyes wetting his palms. “I know. _I know._. I just, I can’t help it. I get so overwhelmed and I turn it up to eleven so that no one knows I’m panicking or depressed or whatever.” His chest felt heavy and he swallowed around a lump forming in his throat. “It’s easier to fake it and sometimes I can trick myself into believing it too.” His voice was small and quiet, barely above a whisper.

Hunk nodded even though Lance wasn’t looking at him, “Well. What do you want now? Do you want to keep pretending?”

“No.” Lance said slowly and shook his head as if each movement was harrowing. 

“Then maybe you should start to tell people how you really feel.” Hunk’s voice was firm and he shrugged his shoulders.

Lance crumpled, sliding till his back was on the floor head buried in his hands, “But what if they don’t understand? Heck, I don’t even understand. I know I’m not gay, I like girls, but bi?” Even the word felt wrong in his mouth as he said it. “It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Well, what does it seem like?”

“I dunno.” Lance mumbled. “I guess I don’t really care. Wow that sounds harsh. I mean boys? Girls? Does it matter?” He turned to Hunk. “ _Does_ it matter?”

Hunk hummed, thinking to himself for a moment. “For me? Yeah it does. I like girls, all kinds of girls. But boys? There’s no spark there.” Lance furrowed his brow and Hunk tapped their shoulders together. “You know how you obsessed over Anna for weeks, and then almost died the day you held her hand?”

 

Lance nodded.

“I don’t think I could ever feel that way about a boy. I’m not saying it could _never_ happen, but if it did it would probably be some sort of alternate reality shit. But that’s just me.”

Silence stretched between them as Lance soaked in the words.   
_Is that what it’s like to be normal?_ Lance felt his stomach drop. He’d been too obsessed with the idea of love to care about who. Too scared to limit himself in case he missed the chance to find his soulmate. 

Hunk broke the silence, snapping his fingers in front of Lance’s face. “Hey, comeback. The way I am doesn’t mean that’s the way you have to be.”

Lance shook his head. “Doesn’t it bother you that your true love might not be a girl? What if you only looked for girls and they were a boy, or a trans boy, or a trans girl who hadn’t figured themselves out yet? Why do you restrict yourself like that?”

“For the same reasons you don’t. It’s just the way I feel. Like I said, you’re you, and that’s okay.”

Sweat prickled in his armpits and lower back as his emotions ran like wildfire through Lance. “What am I, though?” 

Bitting a fingernail, Hunk paused, worry lining his face. “So, don’t be mad, but I did some research for you...” Lance’s eyes narrowed as Hunk spoke. “And. I might have told Pidge about you I’m sorry, but I thought they could help because they’re trans.” The words rushed out of Hunk like a bullet train right into Lance’s chest. Each word felt like it snapped a rib, the final confession making his whole chest caving inwards. 

“You what?” Lance whispered. _Pidge knew? If Pidge knew, who else knew? Was everyone secretly pitying him, hating him?_

“I know, I’m sorry. But I didn’t know anything about this stuff and Pidge was really helpful explaining it and they gave me some ideas to help you.

Cold terror raced through his veins and his breath became shallow gasps. Lance shook his head over and over and over. “I don’t care if they were helpful!” Tears pricked at his eyes and fire burned in his cheeks. “I don’t care, you didn’t have the _right_. I told you. I _trusted_ you.”

“Woah, buddy. Calm down. It’s just Pidge, Pidge is cool.”

Lance pulled at his hair, eyes flicking back and forth. He watched the events in his head, all the ways this would go wrong all the times he’d trust Hunk. He rounded on his friend.

“What if Pidge tells someone, too, huh? What if Alteans hate homosexuality? What if Shiro is disappointed in me? What if Keith…” Tears were falling down his face, and hiccups made speaking almost impossible.

“What if Keith what?” Hunk stayed calm through the storm of emotions. Guilt ate at him, but what was done was done.

The silence continued, causing Hunk to push, _“What if Keith what, Lance?”_

“What if Keith isn’t, you know, and finds me disgusting.” Lance froze in the middle of the room, eyes only seeing the visions in his head. Images of his fellow paladins shuning him, shaming him. Of Keith spitting insults.

“Isn’t gay?” Hunk moved to meet Lance, but not touching him.

“Maybe.” was the whispered reply.

Hunk bent to Lance’s eye level, forcing him to come back to the present. “Look, Lance. Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re tearing yourself apart. I think it’s time to let everyone know. I think _you_ think it’s time to let everyone know.”

“Not that I have a choice now.” He couldn’t stop the bitter words from cutting across his lips.

Hunk cringed, “Look, I messed up. But Pidge did help me.” He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and clicked a few times before pulling something up. Hunk handed it over to Lance.

Lance glared at Hunk before snatching the phone away to look at the screen. It was a long text entry on something called pansexuality.

“What’s this?” He asked, tired from his outburst.

“Pidge told me about it, said it’s like bi but different. Maybe you should look into it. I can send you the link.”

Lance bit his lip, worrying at it with his teeth, “Fine.”

“You don’t have to forgive me. I messed up. But, I think this might help you and I’ll be here for you again if you ever trust me enough to come to me.”

Lance nodded, handing the phone back to Hunk. “I can’t promise anything.”

“It’s not fair to decide for your friends that they aren’t going to accept you. This is affecting everyone.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll think about it.” Lance nodded and half waved to Hunk. “I’m going to go, now.”

Hunk looked like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.

Lance felt shaky without the comforting support of his friend. The friend he’d had since he’d first started struggling with this whole ordeal. Betrayed and exhausted, he ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach and trudged to his room.

As Lance walked through the doors to the room he now called his own, he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. A trail of clothes leading to his bed cluttered the usually spotless floor. Lance flopped down. 

He skipped his nightly face care routine, again, even though his skin was starting to feel scratchy. Lance measured his depression by how well he took care of himself and right now, it was looking pretty dismal. He hadn’t washed his face all week. He groaned, running his palms over his dry cheeks and into his hair. Lance stared up at the blank ceiling, thoughts running in circles. One thought becoming louder and louder until it drowned out all the rest. _If you need to talk to someone, I can listen._ Keith’s voice filled his brain until a headache pressed against his temples.

“Fine!” Lance yelled into the room, “I’ll talk to Keith, just...shut up.” he begged his mind.

The next day his body felt heavy and his eyes refused to focus. He’d only slept for a few hours at most, unable to calm his thoughts long enough to drift off. In the light of day, the idea of talking to Keith seemed naive and catastrophically stupid. Lance warily pushed himself off the bed and padded over to the bathroom. 

His own face shocked him. He’d need to use some of his concealer if he didn’t want any questions thrown at him during breakfast. Lance unscrewed the lid of the little black pot and patted the sticky cream onto a ring finger. After applying a generous amount to his eyes and the red spots on his cheeks he covered the whole thing in foundation. 

_Good enough._

By the time he’d made it down to breakfast, Keith, as well as Shiro and Pidge, were already gone. He sighed in relief. It really was a bad idea to talk to Keith about his feelings, it was a dumb idea. It was best to try and deal with this himself. He could do it.

Hunk threw him a smile from across the table, “Feeling better?” he asked innocently.

Lance worked to throw on a bright smile, the edges of his mouth felt as heavy as stone, “Much!”

Hunk frowned, “No you’re not.”

_Coño._ That was a look he’d only seen on Hunk’s face twice -- once when he’d spilt pineapple soda on Hunk’s final project, and once when he said that Spike from Land Before Time was dead weight for the team. 

“You’re affecting Voltron, you need to get this sorted.”

Lance looked down into his food goo and hissed between clenched teeth, “Yeah I get it. I’ll figure it out.”

“You better.” Hunk was looking at him straight in the eye, “You’re the reason Pidge got hurt last time. If we can’t form Voltron, then the whole universe is in danger, and that means Earth.”

Lance opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it closed, “I get it Hunk.”

He could feel Hunk’s gaze seeping into his skin, he squirmed under the intense scrutiny. “Good.” Hunk got up and let Lance alone to sit with nothing but his dark thoughts.

_If you need to talk to someone, I can listen._

Lance pulled his legs onto the chair and squeezed them, hugging himself close. “I get it.” he told the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will be posted tonight!!! (Sorry about yesterday orz it's been hell moving from one apartment to another)
> 
> Thank you to [Kelpiehunterkai](http://kelpiehunterkai.tumblr.com/) for the just PERFECT artwork for this fic.
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](http://yuzuling.tumblr.com/)


	11. The Only Star I See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance takes the first step of acceptance.

That night Lance couldn’t sleep, he kept replaying scenario after scenario of how he was going to come out. He imagined every reaction and every outcome. Everything from a giant group hug to Allura throwing him on an escape pod and teleporting away. 

He had full conversations with everyone in his head, imagining what they would say and what he would say back. They were so detailed, that by the end it was hard to tell fiction from reality. 

Lance sighed and looked at the time on his phone. There wasn't much night left. Heck, if you were a crazy person you might even consider it early morning. Lance decided he was indeed a crazy person and got up. If he wasn't going to sleep anyway, then he might as well get some early morning training in and swallow his weight in coffee. Or whatever the Altean equivalent for it was. _Space coffee_ maybe. 

Lance ran a hand through his hair smoothing out his cowlicks, then grabbed his jacket and threw it over his shoulders. He slipped through the pocket doors and made his way down to the training room. 

His pace slowed as he approached. Lance could hear muffled grunting coming from behind the closed. He paused, poised just outside the range of the automatic sensor. The only people crazy enough to be up this early training were Shiro and Keith. Lance’s sleep heavy brain supplied a sluggish assessment of what that meant -- a 50-50 chance of this encounter turning into a fight. He weighed his options, his body shifting forward and back with each new conclusion. If it was Shiro then he didn’t want to interrupt his alone time, Shiro had enough on his mind. If it was Keith then he was too tired to argue with him, but he’d probably try anyways. 

Lance decided that either way he wasn’t going to sleep, so even if it was just watching someone else train, at least it was _something_. At least he wasn’t just sitting in bed drowning in his own thoughts. Even if it ended up being a fight it would keep him out of his own head for a moment. Making his decision, he pressed the control panel and the door slid open. The doors whooshed to reveal Keith, shirtless and sweating, as he faced off the training bot. 

Lance froze.

“Miércoles” Lance mumbled under his breath. At least he _thought_ he’d mumbled it under his breath but he wasn’t so sure when a surprised Keith turned to look him in the eye.

“Pause training module.” Keith yelled at the computer. The bot stopped its arc, training sword hovering just above Keith’s head. He wrinkled his nose. “What are you doing here and why are you talking about Wednesday?”

Lance hesitated, Keith’s eyes were still locked on him. He squared his shoulders, he couldn’t just run back to his room now. This was supposed to be him killing time. _So let’s kill some time._ Lance waved his hand, shaking off Keith’s question, “Since when did you know Spanish?” 

Keith’s face smoothed back into a blank canvas and he folded his arms over his chest shaking his head, “I don’t. I just remember a few words from school.” 

Lance nodded, he steped into the training room but paused at Keith’s voice.

“I’m using it right now.” Keith glared knitting his brows together, arms still folded sternly over his chest.

Lance shrugged and continued walking in, hugging the wall as he made his way over to a lone bench. “Yeah, I can see that. Carry on, I’ll just watch.” Lance made himself comfortable as he sat down.

“No, I don’t think you will. I don’t want you watching me train.” Keith huffed, sending a puff of air into his sweaty bangs.

“Who died and made you king of the training room, _Keith_? No one, that’s who. I can sit here if I want.” Lance laced his fingers behind his head and sat back smirking, one ankle propped up on top of his opposite thigh.

Keith sighed, “Then I’m not going to train.” He called out to the ship’s computer, “End program.” The bot fuzzed and then disappeared. Keith made his way to where he’d left his black shirt, ignoring Lance.

Lance groaned, “Why do you always gotta be like this, man? I’m not here to ruin your day, I just can’t sleep. Quiznack, you’re so self important aren’t you?”

Keith froze. He turned around, shirt clasped in his hand, and stared directly into Lance’s eyes. “I don’t think I’m important. At _all_.” 

He said it with such seriousness that Lance was shocked speechless. He didn’t find himself important? _Keith_? Shiro’s right hand man? _Impossible_.

Keith was still staring at him with dark lashes hanging heavily over intense indigo eyes that never failed to make him weak and Lance forgot who he was for a whole minute. 

He cleared his throat, hands coming down awkwardly to his side as he un-crossed his legs, “I um, I think you're important.” Lance said, barely above a whisper. He was unable to turn away from Keith’s eyes. “I mean, _Shiro_ , definitely thinks so. And so does Allura.” Lance ran his words through his head again and clarified, “They think you’re important, I mean.” 

Keith was still looking at him as if he were searching for something he couldn’t quite see, eyes squinted and brow furrowed. Lance finally tore his eyes away.

“What are you trying to say, Lance?” Keith’s voice was even and guarded. 

Lance didn’t really have an answer. At least one he could tell _Keith_ , so he stayed silent and chewed on his lip.

Lance gasped as Keith entered his vision, that boy was too quiet for his own good. 

“What am I to you, Lance?” Keith kept using his name and Lance thought it was going to be the end of him.

“My rival?” Lance squeaked out, the pressure from Keith’s gaze making him squirm in his seat. He knew he was lying but what was the point of the truth anyways? He already knew what would happen if Keith knew his feelings.

“I see.” Keith seemed to relax and grow cold at the same time, “Then I’m leaving.”

Lance’s hand shot out and wrapped itself around Keith’s slender wrist without his permission. Curse his hand, curse his lack of self control. “Wait.” Curse his traitorous voice.

“Why?” Keith tried to tug his wrist away from Lance’s grip but there was no force behind it. Lance held firm.

“I can’t tell you.” Lance sighed squeezing his eyes shut taking a deep breath, “because you’ll hate me if you know. More than you hate me now.” Lance whispered.

Keith did rip his wrist away from Lance this time, “What are you talking about?”

Lance didn’t look up, it was all over, he’d said too much. He shook his head and stepped back.

“Lance.” Keith’s voice was stern, “I don’t hate you.”

Lance’s head whipped up at that, piercing eyes bore into him. There was no challenge behind them, just pure force. “Wah…?” was the only sound he could make.

Keith didn’t smile but his face seemed less harsh, “I don’t hate you, why did you think I hated you? We baked a cake together.”

Lance couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sentence echoing a similar phrase. “Are you going to cradle me in your arms again?” Lance winked up at the boy standing over him.

The raven haired boy’s face burned red, hot and quick. Keith threw up his hands above his head, “I don’t even know why I try! You’re a hopeless skirt chaser with no consideration for anyone else!”

Lance’s eyes widened, showing all the white of his blue eyes, “Woah, buddy. It was just a joke. No need to take it so seriously.” 

“Did you ever think it was serious for me, Lance?” Keith said as he turned, stretching his legs to their limit as he walked, trying to leave as fast as possible.

It didn’t work. They might be similar in height but Lance was all leg and caughting up to Keith before he had the chance to escape.

Lance threw a lanky arm out to grab at Keith’s shoulder. He gripped it tight as he pulled causing Keith to spin and face him with a jerk.

“What’s going on, Keith? Why are you acting like this?” Lance was panting. He hadn’t waisted much exertion to stop Keith in his tracks, but he felt like he couldn’t catch his breath no matter how he tried.

“I’m not like _anything_! It’s you! You’re the one always throwing yourself at girls in front of me and casually touching me and smiling at me and confusing me! Then you, that night.” Keith’s eyes were dialated and his hands pulled at his hair, he looked on the brink of histara. 

Lance started to panic. _Why were they fighting again?_ he couldn’t remember. He placed his hands gently on Keith’s shoulders, trying to comfort him. He ran his fingers from the soft tufts of hair at Keith’s neck down to the strong curve of his shoulders all the while gently whispering. “I’m sorry, Keith. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know. Shhhh.”

Slowly Keith’s breath slowed and his eyes focused on Lance. He was very much inside of Keith’s personal space and he started to step back, worried that he’d oversteped his bounds. 

Keith grabbed his hands, holding him there. His voice was rough and scratchy from his panic but the words were understandable, “What am I to you, Lance? I _need_ to know.”

Lance swallowed thickly and his cheeks felt overly warm. “Uh.” He put his hovering hands back down onto the warm skin of Keith’s shoulders. The skin was soft and Lance had to stop his fingers from rubbing small crickles against it. He hung his head in defeat, resigned to his fate, “I’m sorry.” He squeezed his eyes shut, scared to look at the boy who facinated him so excrusiatingly.

Keith stiffened under his touch and Lance couldn’t controll the way his fingers tightned around the strong muscle, grisping for dear life. “I’m so sorry, I can’t stop, I tried but I can’t make it go away.”

Lance hazarded a glimpse at Keith and immediately regretted it. Keith’s eyes were dark, emotions running just under the surface like billowing storm clouds. They were black chasms that Lance fell into, lost forever, captured by their depth. There was no escape, those eyes ripped his walls away and left him bare. Exposing all his deepest, most guarded emotions for Keith to see. He was a goner.

“I stopped looking for Orion, now I only search for you. You’re the first person I look for in a room and the person I search for after a battle. And I don’t know what to do about that. I don’t know what to do about how you make me feel.” The words were pulled from his lips by intense purple eyes. “Hunk said I might be something called pansexual, but I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

They were so close now. When had they moved? Lance felt like the tide being pulled by the moon, drawn in and close to Keith, unable to escape his gravity. 

“Do you like me, Lance?” Dusty rose lips whispered and Lance could feel them brush against his own, warm and soft. 

“Yes.” It came out as a breath cresting against the other boy’s lips. Lance’s soft brown lashes brushed against his own cheeks as they fluttered closed. 

Keith didn’t need to hear anything else, brushing his lips against Lance’s just a trace of feeling, the lightest touch. Not quite tasting, not quite contact. 

Lance gasped and the feathery feel of soft lips against his firm ones. It was the last thing he could do before they crashed into each other, waves on a rocky shore. The moon crashed into the sea and the sea swallowed it whole, filling it up completely. The stars paled as the tide flipped and the universe ended and began again and again for years or for seconds. Lance would never know. All he knew was that space, for all its vastness, was not as lonely as he’d once thought it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end!!
> 
> So a couple notes: I don't have Lance coming out to the whole group for a few reasons. The most important being, there is no such thing as "coming out". You come out every time you have to correct pronouns or introduce your partner, or move to a new city. Coming out is an ongoing life-long thing, not a simple one-and-done. 
> 
> Why didn't Lance and Hunk's friendship get wrapped up? Life keeps going. Sure Hunk was giving him some tough love, not really understanding what Lance was going through, but friends have fights and they make up and they fight again. So to will Hunk and Lance. It doesn't fit the flow of the last chapter, so just believe me when I say they work it out eventually.
> 
> Finally. Never out someone. Ever. Even if they are a mutual friend or family member. Don't. What Hunk did was very very wrong and 100% not okay. He's going to have to make Lance a lot of "i'm sorry" cakes. If a person confides in you, don't destroy that trust. 
> 
> Woo!! It's the end!! You made it! I made it! *confetti* 
> 
> Come hang out with me, [I have a Tumblr!!!](http://yuzuling.tumblr.com/)


End file.
